Shadows of the Past
by Meltha
Summary: The six friends have found themselves back in our world, but the Realm is not an easy place to leave behind.
1. Chapter 1: After the End

Author: Meltha

Rating: PG

Feedback: Yes, thank you.

Spoilers: Through the unaired finale "Requiem," which can be found on the Internet or as a radio play in the box DVD set.

Distribution: The Blackberry Patch and . If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary: The six friends have found themselves back in our world, but the Realm is not an easy place to leave behind.

Author's Note: Originally written for Astolat for Yuletide 2010. Also, I've included a short list of music for suggested listening at the start of each chapter. With two exceptions, these songs were all made by the end of 1983, the year this story is set and the year the show began.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters presented in this work of non-profit fiction. All characters are the property of their individual owners. Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you. Thank you.

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 1: After the End

The light of their own world was dizzying at first, different, almost blinding as the first chunks of rubble were lifted off the cars of the ride and hands reached down into the darkness to help them up.

"We've got another group of them over here!" someone called out, and Eric watched as first Bobby, then Sheila, Diana, Presto, and Hank were lifted from the car to cheers and applause.

As he saw each one pulled from the wreckage, he felt oddly calm. He didn't know what he'd expected to feel when he finally came home again, though he'd daydreamed about it often enough, but instead of wild elation, he found himself merely staring at the bottom of each pair of sneakers as they disappeared into the world above. Finally, it was his turn.

"Okay, son?" asked a rescue worker as Eric blinked in the sunlight. "You look like you're in pretty good shape."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Eric said, waving him off, but ambulances were already coming to take them away, making sure that the terrible accident of the Dungeons and Dragons ride caving in hadn't hurt any of them.

They were separated into individual vehicles to be sped off to the hospital, though Eric would have bet good money (and with a contented sigh he realized he really did have good money again) Sheila wouldn't let Bobby out of her sight. As the sound of the sirens whirled overhead, he tried to readjust and understand the viewpoint of the people around them.

"So… what happened?" Eric asked blandly from his gurney.

"Good question," said one of the paramedics. "Nobody knows. It's like that old ride just imploded in on itself. We already got one kid out along with her dog about an hour ago, and they're saying your car was the only other one in there when the roof collapsed."

Eric nodded, choosing to keep his mouth shut. So, Terry had been saved an hour ago. That was nearly two years ago in their time, but in this world time had barely moved at all. His head began to swim with the enormity of how much and how little had changed. Was he fifteen or eighteen now? He looked down at the shirt he'd forgotten he'd been wearing when they left, and for a moment he missed the feel of chainmail so much it felt like part of him had been scraped away.

"Must have been some scary scene in there," the paramedic said.

"Yeah," Eric said, watching the cars pass through the window. "Real scary."

As the ambulance drove in its place in the strange parade of screaming sirens taking them towards the hospital in little moving metal boxes, he realized for the first time just how much he really hated being alone.

A brief check-up later and the doctors declared all of the "victims" were unharmed and could go home. Eric drifted into the hospital lobby on instinct, and sure enough, he saw Bobby and Sheila being hugged by their parents as they walked out the doors and into the California sunshine. It was strange to see Bobby wearing something other than fur, he thought. He caught a glimpse of Hank ahead of them, his father with a manly yet protective arm around him. Presto wandered through the door that Eric had just come through, and his face lit up.

"Hey, Eric!" he said. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, then frowned. "You look a lot shorter without that hat."

"Ha ha," Presto said sarcastically, but Eric noticed he couldn't stop smiling. "Can you believe it? We're home! Really home!"

Eric nodded and was about to make a particularly witty remark about how amazing it was that Presto hadn't managed to mess it up at the last moment when he was nearly stampeded by three kids and two adults.

"Albert!" screamed the woman, who from her brownish red hair could only be Presto's mom. "Thank goodness you're alright! Did you break your glasses? Did you forget your inhaler?"

Eric looked on in amusement as Presto, who had gone up against Venger and Bogbeasts and Tiamat and a whole assortment of other horrible things, was treated like a kid in public. Yup, Eric thought, he'd have to razz him but good over this one later, but even as the thought came into his mind, Presto was spirited away by his family into the parking lot.

Eric waited. He sank down into one of the very uncomfortable chairs in the lobby and stared out the window, expecting his father to pull up any moment even though a little voice in the back of his mind said that he shouldn't hold his breath. The shadows lengthened, and he still waited. Finally, a nurse came into the lobby and peered around quizzically in that manner people have when they're searching for someone but don't actually know what the person looks like.

"Is there an Eric Montvault here?" she finally asked, and he walked over to her.

"Don't tell me," he said, getting loud, his most comforting defense mechanism. "Let me guess! Dad's not coming because the CEO of an oil company from a country I can't even pronounce is in town, and he has to squire him around to all the local strip joints, so he's sending the limo. How close am I?"

The nurse looked taken aback.

"We don't usually give private messages, but as your father has been such a generous donor…," she began, but Eric noticed she wasn't contradicting him.

"It's fine! Just… tell him I'd rather walk!" he said, storming out the door.

"Hey!" he heard behind him, and he spun around with an angry retort on his lips, but it died away as he saw Diana running towards him, a bandage on her arm. A man he assumed must be her father was watching with a concerned expression.

"Oh," he said, then kicked at an imaginary pebble on the ground. "It's you. What happened?"

"I just got a small cut from the way they pulled me out of the ride. No big deal," she said. "Your dad's not coming?"

"You heard that?" he asked, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

"Eric, I think Canada heard that," she said, giving him a grin. "You want a ride home?"

He was about to say no, but the word wouldn't come out. Instead, it just died on his lips, and he nodded mutely, trying to swallow an uncomfortable knot in his throat.

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks."

Eric followed Diana and her father to the parking lot, and even though he noticed their car had some rust on it, he held his tongue and got in the backseat. It was a strangely quiet ride, with Eric giving brief directions at cross streets until they pulled up in front of his stereotypically enormous house, complete with white columns, an in-ground pool with a high diving board, and a putting green.

"You live at South Fork?" Diana said, turning from the front seat to give him a raised eyebrow.

"Pretty much," Eric said, stooping to get out of the car, "in every sense, including the overblown drama. Thanks for the ride home."

"Don't mention it," Diana said, then paused as she took at the darkened windows. "Uh, you have your key, right?"

"Yeah, somewhere," he said, not really caring if he did and almost hoping he'd have to break in just to get out his aggression. "I'm fine."

"Okay," she said, but she still looked concerned. "See you around, then. We should all get together. Soon."

"Yeah, soon, because who wouldn't want to relive this nightmare over and over again," Eric said grimly, then walked up the driveway.

He heard the sound of their car pulling down the drive, and he patted his pocket to find that, yes, his keys were still in there. Something about that struck him as really bizarre, strange enough that he started to laugh, almost hysterically so. He opened the door, flipped on the perfectly normal, perfectly wonderful electric light switch, then flipped it on and off again a few times for good measure. Smiling like a loon, he headed immediately for the kitchen.

The sandwich he created would have made Dagwood cower in terror, and when a bag of chips, a container of dip, and a six-pack of Coke were added to the spread, Eric nodded in satisfaction and took his first bite. Two hours later, his belly was full and he had watched his fill of television that was completely free of any educational content. The house remained otherwise empty.

He went back to the kitchen, surprised to find that he was putting his own dishes in the dish washer without thinking twice about it. It wasn't until now that he noticed a note on the counter.

_Rita,_

_I'll be in Palm Springs at the spa for the next few days. Michael will be accompanying me. Have lobster ready when I return next Thursday. _

_Mrs. Montvault_

Eric frowned. His mother and brother were both out of town for most of the week, and knowing his father's habits, Eric might as well be living alone. Well, except for Rita, but tomorrow was her day off.

He sighed then went upstairs to his bedroom. It seemed so foreign to him now that it was like it belonged to someone else. The bed, the TV with the Atari attached and the box overflowing with game cartridges, the overstuffed sofa, the huge closet filled with clothes that he couldn't help thinking looked strange—all of it felt unfamiliar. Still, the feel of silk pajamas and his 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets were heavenly, and as he lay down, he told himself he didn't have to worry about dragon attacks or Orc soldiers or even Dungeon Master popping out of nowhere with quests wrapped in riddles. He smiled and slept very soundly.

Sometime past one, Eric jolted awake with the instinct of someone who had been in battle for a long time. It took only seconds to realize that the noise had been his father coming home. His steps shuffled uncertainly up the stairs, past Eric's room, and down the hall. Judging by the amount of grumbling and how many times he bumped into things, Eric guessed it was a bourbon night—probably very expensive bourbon, but it still got him as drunk as the typical skid row bum. Well, he'd be having breakfast alone tomorrow morning before school. It wasn't anything new, he told himself as he turned into his pillow. He was just out of practice with it.


	2. Chapter 2: School's In

For disclaimer and other notes, please see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"Another Brick in the Wall" – Pink Floyd

"Flashdance" – Irene Cara

"She's Got a Way" – Billy Joel

Chapter 2: School's In

Morning came, and with it orange juice and Froot Loops. Why had he never noticed before how much fun it was to watch the milk turn different colors? He poked at the little floating circles like he was a kid, rearranging them until he'd made a smiling face, then turned it into a frown. School. Ugh. That was one of the parts of this world he really hadn't missed. He searched his brain, trying to remember what his schedule was or, worse, if he had a geometry test today. He considered calling in sick, maybe claiming his nerves were a wreck from the horrifying accident yesterday, but then he shrugged. Sooner or later, he was going to have to face the rest of the world, so it might as well be today.

The limo dropped him off at the south entrance of George Washington High School, which looked like as much like a prison as ever, and sure enough, walking into the grammar school across the street was that idiot Jimmy Whittaker. Eric seriously considered ripping into him for not doing anything to save them or even calling their parents, but then he shrugged. After all, what normal person wouldn't think that the whole thing had been a dream.

Wait, he thought. It hadn't been… had it?

Feeling a little unnerved, he wondered if it was a sign of insanity that he hadn't immediately realized that the whole adventure in the Realm had to have been nothing but a hallucination from getting stuck inside a broken carnival ride. He shivered slightly and pulled his book bag a little closer as he remembered that no one had actually mentioned a single word about where they had been or anything they'd done there after being pulled from the wreckage.

He pushed open the door and joined the hallways already flooded with hundreds of other teenagers, and he recalled that his first class was history with Mrs. Gronsky. Life was normal. There were no magical beings, no portals to other dimensions, just high school. Okay, high school was weird enough, but still…

And then he saw the two jocks who were mugging Presto in the middle of the hallway.

"Get off me!" he yelled, but the words were swallowed up in the noise from so many students passing by.

"Right, nerd," the taller one said with a laugh. "Just as soon as you give us your lunch money, we'll leave you alone… until tomorrow anyway."

"Or later today if we get bored," the shorter one added with a snort.

One of them reached in Presto's pocket, and immediately a whole deck of playing cards fell out, followed by a series of handkerchiefs sewn corner to corner and a collapsible wand.

"What is this crap?" the guy said. "You some kind of a magician? I knew you were lame, but that's really, really lame!"

"Lay off him," Eric said.

He'd been holding his tongue. Normally, when Presto was getting picked on, he didn't bother. But, even if that other world had been just a dream, his protective instinct was up, and these guys just looked way too much like Orcs for him to ignore.

"You wanna be next, Montvault?" the taller one said. "You've probably got a lot more money."

"And much better lawyers," he said. "Try it and I'll own your house, your car, your college fund, and your entire collection of Duran Duran."

The big thug blinked rather stupidly, but he let go of Presto, giving him a final shove against the lockers.

"Whatever," he said, sauntering off and trying to still look tough, followed by his toady.

"Thanks, Eric," Presto said as he tried to pick up all his stuff. "Those guys are still jerks. I guess some things just don't change no matter what."

Eric looked at him suspiciously, wondering.

"Why would they have changed?" he asked.

"Come on! After everything that happened, well, yesterday?" Presto said, keeping his voice low. "I mean, after that, you'd think I could take care of a few bullies."

"Yeah," Eric said, still cautious. "Surviving that wreck was definitely something to bore my grandkids with someday."

"The… wreck?" Presto said, giving him a sidelong look.

"Yeah… the… wreck…," Eric said, still not sure if Presto was getting at what he thought he was, and it seemed like he was being just as careful.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and Eric glared at him, then took a risk.

"I had a shield," he mumbled. "If you have no idea what that means…"

"I had a magic hat!" Presto said, much too loudly, his voice cracking. "Yes! So it really was real, then! I was starting to wonder if it was all just a dream."

"Yeah, me too," Eric said. "Too bad, huh?"

Presto frowned at his words, but the bell rang, and they took off in opposite directions for class.

History was, of course, boring. Mrs. Gronsky was covering the War of Independence. It seemed like they started with Columbus every single year, and it meant they never got further in history than the start of the Civil War before summer would come and the whole thing started over again the next year, like a show in reruns that never aired the ending. It aggravated him. When class was over, he closed his notebook with a sigh and headed back into the hallway, trying to remember if geometry or French was next and not looking forward to either answer.

"Think fast!" came a familiar voice behind him, and in a split second he automatically dropped into a defensive crouch, notebook up as though he were still holding the shield Dungeon Master had given him.

An orange bounced harmlessly off the front of it, and although half the hallway was giving him looks that plainly said he was crazy, the only laughter was from Diana, who had thrown it in the first place.

"Had to make sure you're still in practice," she said, falling into step beside him.

"Yeah," he said, giving her a disbelieving look, "because the school might be overrun by five-headed dragons any second."

"Lighten up, will you?" she said, still smiling. "We're home, Eric. Really home! It's what we've been dreaming of since what seems like forever!"

Eric didn't say anything, and Diana stopped smiling.

"You did get in your house okay, right? You didn't, like, spend the night on the front porch or something?" she asked.

"Yes, I got inside," Eric said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just… not really readjusted yet, you know?"

"Hey, totally understand that one," she said. "I picked up my toothbrush this morning and automatically shook it like it was my javelin out of force of habit."

He smiled in spite of himself.

"I've gotta go to Spanish next, but do you want to stop by the gym after school? I'm practicing a routine for regionals next week, and I'm a little nervous I'm going to look like an idiot after not being on the uneven bars for three years," she said. "A friendly face might help."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he said, waving vaguely at her as they went down separate corridors to their respective classes, but part of him felt genuinely happy that out of all of them, she'd picked him as her cheering section.

The morning passed in a blur, and at lunch, Eric sat at one of the tables in the outdoor quad with Hank and Sheila. Turning up his nose at the cafeteria's Sloppy Joes, which honestly looked like they may have been made out of Bogbeast (and really, wouldn't that be a form of cannibalism if he ate them?), he opened his lunch bag and took out a ham sandwich, two pouches of Capri Sun, a baggie of Chips-Ahoy cookies, potato chips, Doritos, a handful of Slim Jims, and a strawberry Fruit Roll Up.

"Uh… not feeling hungry, Eric?" Hank said as he stared at the line up of food.

"I didn't know what I wanted, so I grabbed everything," Eric said with a shrug. "I've really missed overly processed food."

Sheila poked at the Fruit Roll Up with her fingertip.

"These things are just weird," she said, shaking her head. "I don't get them. I mean, if you want something that tastes like strawberries, why not just eat strawberries?"

"Because strawberries aren't leathery and don't have ingredients that are physically impossible to pronounce," Eric said. "So how'd Bobby do last night?"

"Oh, fine," she said, then added with a grin, "well, mostly. He took about an hour in the bathroom this morning getting ready, and he was clutching a certain locket when he got on the bus. He looked pretty darn nervous. I'm guessing he's going to tell Mom and Dad there's another kid invited to his birthday party this weekend."

"Geez, is his birthday still this Saturday?" Eric said.

"Yeah, and you're not weaseling out of helping like you promised, even if it was three years ago," Sheila said.

"The whole gang will be there, so it'll be like a kind of reunion," Hank said.

"Fine, fine," Eric said with a put-upon sigh. "I'll be there to make sure the twerps don't try to burn the place down."

Just what he wanted to do: spend his first Saturday back playing chaperone to a bunch of eight-year-olds at a roller skating rink. He supposed it could be worse. Granted, he couldn't think of how, but he was sure there had to be something.

The bell rang, and the afternoon dragged on: English (a thoroughly scintillating lecture on when to use the word "a" versus "an"), biology (staring at slides of different forms of apparently identical lichen), and computers (where he scrambled to get an amber screen instead of the more pedestrian green ones and failed). By the time the day ended and he was stuffing books into his locker, Eric was so bored that he thought a good, long battle with Venger would have been refreshing. Remembering his promise to Diana, he stumbled towards the gym, hoping that her fears of being out of practice weren't real.

As he entered the doors and caught sight of her on the uneven bars, he stopped cold. Her worries had definitely been totally groundless. With remarkable control, she flipped gracefully around the lower bar, holding herself suspended, her feet pointing towards the ceiling, supporting herself with only one arm. Abruptly, she looped her body around again, then let go of the bar and almost seemed to fly to the higher one, catching it with ease and propelling herself around again. Switching direction with almost superhuman speed, she twisted herself around to face the lower bar, and as she did, she caught sight of Eric gaping at her. Upside down, she frowned at him (it took him a moment to realize that was actually a smile), then, after a series of dizzying movements, she dismounted in a high arc as though she weighed nothing at all, her feet hitting the ground with a firm thump.

Eric blinked. Apparently, that javelin hadn't done all that much for her. Most of it had really been her.

"So… okay?" she asked nervously when she'd walked over to him, leaving the bars to the next girl.

"Eh, pretty good, yeah," he said, trying not to sound too impressed. "I think Nadia Comaneci might have to be a little worried next year."

"Considering she's retired, I kind of doubt it," Diana said, grabbing a towel and mopping her forehead.

"Geez, I knew she made a lot of money, but isn't 22 kind of young to quit working?" Eric quipped.

"For a gymnast, that's actually pretty darn old," she said, throwing the towel at him. "I don't know. I don't seem to have slipped too much, even with the arm injury, but I'm still going to have a hard time beating Retton onto the team, I think."

"Who?" asked Eric, kicking the sweaty towel away with a look of disgust.

"Trust me, you'll know soon enough," Diana said. "I've got to put in some floor work still. It's kind of boring to watch, though."

"I like being bored," Eric said, sitting on the bleachers. "Ask anyone. Boring is good."

For the next two hours, Diana worked through floor exercises, the balance beam, and the vault. He frankly didn't know how she managed to keep breathing, let alone smiling, though all of the complicated movements. The time seemed to fly by (which made him wonder if history would do the same if Mrs. Gronsky would lecture while doing cartwheels on a balance beam, but then he started feeling nauseous at the mental image of her in a unitard), and before he knew it, the two of them were walking into the parking lot.

"Seriously, thanks," Diana said as she scanned the rows of cars for her dad's. "I figured if anybody would give me an honest reaction, it'd be you."

"Don't mention it," he said, shrugging. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said, waving to her father to show she'd seen him, but then she turned back to Eric. "It's weird, isn't it… everybody going home at the end of the day, not being together?"

"Not hearing Hank snoring like a lumberjack, not getting bashed in the shins with Bobby's club when he rolls over, not tripping over Sheila in the middle of the night because she's gone invisible from using her cloak as a blanket," Eric rhapsodized in pseudo-nostalgia.

"Good points all," Diana said, walking off towards the car.

"Not that I'd mind a little snoring, bashing, or tripping," Eric mumbled to himself as he wandered towards the far end of the parking lot where the limo was waiting.


	3. Chapter 3: Should Auld Acquaintance Be

For notes and disclaimers, please see chapter one.

Suggested music:

"Beat It" – Michael Jackson

"Pac-Man Fever" – Buckner and Garcia

"Let's Dance" – David Bowie

"Mr. Roboto" – Styx

"Hello" – Lionel Richie

"Princes of the Universe" - Queen

Chapter 3: Should Auld Aquaintance Be Forgot

The next day was much the same, and the next, and the one after that as well. The normal world began to feel less foreign to Eric, but it still didn't seem like home. Dungeon Master had disappeared to be replaced with parents and school, friends and familiar landscapes, a world without Orcs or revenge-obsessed wizards but plenty of cars, airplanes, computers, video arcades, pizza parlors, and malls. He silently told himself this was wonderful, and when Earth meant hot water for his shower or popping a video into his VCR or playing _Pong_ in his room, he usually didn't have to do too much convincing to make himself believe it.

But when he was having dinner alone for the fifth time that week in the monstrously large house, and when his mother called to say she was staying another week at the spa because she so desperately needed the relaxation, and when he literally didn't see his father for days because Eric would be gone before he got up and in bed before he got home, he began to wonder why he ever wanted to come back in the first place.

Saturday morning arrived, and with it Bobby's birthday party. Eric groaned as he got out of bed, groaned louder when he realized they were out of milk, and groaned at a truly ear shattering level when he realized the remote control had vanished and he had to walk all the way up to the TV to turn it on so he could watch a few cartoons before he got ready to herd munchkins all day. Finally, unable to postpone the inevitable any longer, he called the chauffeur and had him drive to the skating rink.

The place was, as usual, buzzing with activity. A small cluster of arcade games was beeping and flashing violently as kids poured quarters into them, intent on reaching some goal he was pretty sure was unobtainable. The smell of pepperoni pizza and ice cream bars wafted from the rink's cafeteria, and over it all, "Beat It" was blaring from the speakers. Kids whirled around the rink, falling as often as not, occasionally colliding with each other either on accident or on purpose, while two or three would try to break the rules and skate backwards until one of the employees caught them.

Eric was a hair's breadth away from running back out to the parking lot when Sheila spotted him and waved spastically. Drat. No escape now.

He sauntered over to the bench where she was putting on her skates (bright yellow with hot pink sparkly wheels and neon orange laces), trying to look like he was much too cool to be there.

"Are you going to rent skates?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Montvaults do not rent shoes," he said, raising his nose in the air with superiority.

"I kind of thought you didn't," she said, giving him a look, "but you didn't bring a pair with you either."

"Oh, well, no," Eric said. "I thought I'd handle the crowd control off the rink."

She gave him a funny look.

"Look, Eric, if you can't skate, it's okay. I totally understand," she said.

"I can skate!" Eric yelled. "Any idiot can roller skate! It's not that hard!"

"Okay, okay," Sheila said, putting her hands up. "No problem, you can skate. Bobby's over there by the _Centipede_ game. Can you give him these quarters for me? I can't go over there with these on."

"Sure," he said, taking the coins from her. "I'll see you in a minute."

Bobby was currently rolling the ball controller on _Centipede_ at a frighteningly violent level, but that was no surprise. What did make Eric pause for a split second, though, was seeing Terry at his elbow, playing the second controller the second he stopped and biting her lip in concentration as the game went on. Bobby was openly playing with a girl? In front of his friends?

Eric suddenly felt very, very old.

"Yo, Bobby," Eric called. "Your sis wanted to give you this."

"Alright!" Bobby yelled. "That's enough quarters for the rest of the day!"

He high-fived Terry, who Eric noticed was once again wearing her locket, then went back to his game, totally engrossed, as a bunch of third grade boys cheered him on.

"Hey, Eric," Presto said, coming towards them. "Happy birthday, Bobby."

"Uh-huh, thanks, whatever," Bobby said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Am I the last one here?" Presto asked, glancing around.

"I haven't seen Hank or Diana yet," Eric said. "If those two made such a big deal out of me coming today and then slipped out of it themselves, I'm gonna…"

"You're gonna what?" Diana asked from over his shoulder.

"I'm gonna… be very disappointed in you, but since you're here, I'm not," Eric amended, noticing Hank was sitting next to Sheila and putting on a pair of rented skates.

"Right," Diana said. "And where are your skates?"

"I don't skate," he said, trying to make it sound more like he was too cool to skate than too klutzy.

"Oh," Diana said. "Too bad."

With that she took off across the rink, graceful as a swan, to separate two of Bobby's friends who were squabbling towards the center.

"Show off," he muttered, but he kept watching her out of the corner of his eye.

The party wasn't quite the torment Eric had been expecting. Most of the kids were pretty well behaved, but he did notice something that made him pause. Bobby wasn't acting like the other kids. It wasn't just how he was with Terry, either. He seemed older somehow.

"He's not turning eight," Sheila said to him, looking at Bobby from a distance. "Not really. You've noticed it too."

"Yeah," Eric said. "He's, what, eleven now?"

"I guess," Sheila said, watching as he unwrapped another present. "I mean, he doesn't really look like it because none of us aged while we were there, but we aren't who we were before it all happened. We've changed."

Eric didn't know what to say to that, so for once he said nothing. He watched as Bobby blew out the candles on his birthday cake, even though he knew the number written in blue frosting was a lie.

The kids were skating again, and the five others were cleaning up the wrapping paper and putting what little leftover cake there was into a box to take home. Eric noticed the lights had dimmed and a slow song was playing, complete with disco ball lights. He glanced out at the rink to find the boys had all gone off to the arcade again, with the single exception of Bobby. As Eric had somewhat expected, he was skating with Terry, holding hands as Lionel Richie sang "Hello." The only thing missing was little cartoon hearts popping over their heads.

Eric turned to make an appropriately snarky comment about the pint-sized lovebirds to anybody nearby, but he found the only person in hearing range was Diana. Somehow he didn't particularly want to say something stupid right now because he noticed that the lights flittering over her face were almost magical. She looked pretty. Really pretty.

And now he was a sap. Wonderful. Apparently Bobby was contagious.

Actually, if he was honest with himself, Eric had always liked Diana. It was hard not to. She was funny and brave and as smart as he was, which was saying something, but in the Realm he'd only ever vaguely thought of her that way, and almost never since Kosar. He pulled back out of respect when she'd lost him. It just wasn't something that was smart to do, falling in love in that world.

However, they were home now. Maybe there was something good about being here again.

Eric was just about to walk over to Diana, though exactly what he'd say hadn't come into his mind yet, when he heard Presto sigh.

"What?" Eric said.

"Nothing," Presto said, then he stopped. "It's just…"

He motioned towards the two kids, who were now leaving the rink and coming back over to the table, still holding hands.

"Sickening, isn't it?" Eric said.

"No," Presto said. "I think that, I don't know, it's like that place makes some kind of a bond for people. You can find the other part of yourself there or something. And I… I miss Varla."

It happened in a flash. The moment her name had left Presto's lips, time seemed to come to a grinding halt. The disco ball stopped turning, the kids froze in the act of skating or falling, and even the snack bar clock's second hand was still. Eric looked around, trying to see what was going on, and it was then he realized not quite everyone was frozen.

"Uh, guys?" Bobby said, running to the table with Terry. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," Sheila said.

"Me neither," Hank said, moving towards them. "Did anybody do anything?"

"Shut up," Presto whispered, and the sound carried in the suddenly silent room.

Standing on the table, blurry but unmistakable, was a moving image of Varla staring up at them.

"Varla?" Presto murmured quietly, his eyes wide and suspiciously bright.

"Yes, Presto," she said, speaking urgently. "I'm here, but I can't stay for long. Something horrible has happened, and we need you, all of you. Please, come back to us or everything will be lost!"

"But how?" Presto asked.

"When your moon is full, return to the place where it began, and it will draw you back once more. Hurry, there's not much time!"

Varla faded away, leaving nothing behind, but the world began to move again. The kids however were motionless as statues, completely shocked. Eric of course took this as his cue for comic relief.

"Is it me, or was the only thing missing in that message 'Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi! You're my only hope!'" Eric said, staring at the spot where she had vanished.

"Oh boy," Sheila said, sitting down as though she might faint. "Oh, this is not good. This is very, very not good at all."

"I'm going back," Presto said immediately, his voice lower with determination. "The rest of you can do what you want, but I can't leave her like that."

"Presto, you can't even be sure that was really her," Hank started to say, but Presto silenced him with a look.

"Yes, I can," he said, and his tone was absolute. "I could feel her. That was her, and she's in trouble. I'm going."

Presto's jaw was clenched defiantly, and Eric had to hand it to him. He really did look like a fearsome warrior intent on saving his lady love… well, except for the t-shirt with "Live long and prosper!" emblazoned across it.

Hank opened his mouth to say something, then, shutting his eyes, took a deep breath instead.

"When's the next full moon?" he asked, sounding resigned.

"Tonight," Diana said. "Dad mentioned this morning before he went to the observatory that there's something really weird about this one. It's way too bright."

"Tonight?" Eric said, snorting. "Of course. That's just our luck."

"So… who's in?" Presto asked, looking at each of them in turn and putting his hand down on the table.

Sheila bit her lip, looked at them, then put her hand on top of Presto's. Hank moved next, adding his large hand on Sheila's smaller one. Diana's calloused hand came next, and Eric's on hers, followed by Bobby's, and then, surprisingly, Terry's.

"You don't have to go," Bobby said, looking at her.

"I could see that girl too, and she said she needed all of us," she said, keeping her voice firm but still looking very pale.

The pile of hands in the middle grew tighter for a moment, a last desperate clutch at reality that turned into the strength of knowing that they were together, and whatever danger they were headed towards, they weren't alone.

Eric gripped the hand below his more tightly for just a moment, and he thought he felt a returning pressure from Diana. Suddenly the world didn't seem quite so bleak anymore.

He was going home.


	4. Chapter 4: Return to the Realm

For notes, please see chapter 1.

Suggested music for this chapter:

"Say Goodbye to Hollywood" – Billy Joel

"Man's Road" – America

"A Flight of Dragons" – Don McLean

Chapter 4: Return to the Realm

The moon was indeed much brighter than Eric had thought was possible when the gang snuck over the wall of the closed amusement park and darted into the shadows of a Tilt-a-Whirl, hoping that security guards weren't about to have them arrested. It was nearly as bright as daylight. The stars were also clearer than normal, and it looked like somebody had added a few thousand extra for good measure.

"Everybody okay?" Hank whispered, checking carefully over his shoulder to be sure they weren't followed.

"Yeah," Sheila whispered back, drawing her jacket around her tightly even though the night air was balmy. "We're all here."

"Right. Then let's get to the ride and see if anything happens," Hank said.

"Or if we all just stand there like a bunch of losers and get hauled off to the pokey for trespassing," Eric said cheerfully. "Either way, we're pretty well doomed."

"Enough gabbing. Let's get moving already," Presto said, and to Eric's surprise, the magician was the one leading the way for once. He wasn't sure he could ever remember that happening before.

Past the pond where the paddleboats usually drifted, around the silent carousel whose horses seemed to be staring right at them, and beneath the geometric shadows of the roller coaster and the darkened Ferris wheel, they could finally see the closed off Dungeons and Dragons ride. There was plenty of yellow tape strung around it, complete with giant Keep Out signs and other warnings of impending disaster if anyone even looked at the place too long.

"Okay, so, Varla said to go back to the beginning," Diana said, scuffing at a bit of the rubble with the toe of her shoe. "We're here, right?"

"Almost," Presto said. "I think we need to actually go inside."

"In there?" Eric said, pointing at the crater that used to be the entrance through the dragon's mouth. "Are you nuts?"

"Maybe," Presto said grimly, but he was already starting to pick his way through the debris.

The rest of them all looked at each other, but Terry followed next, Bobby right behind her, and then Sheila, Diana, and Hank in a pack. Eric stood outside for a few seconds, looking at the world around him.

"I hope this works," he mumbled. "I don't know why, but I do."

The tracks were a mangled mess, but they were still pretty much where they'd been before the portal had opened to the Realm. It was dark inside, but the ceiling had given way in many places, and the moonlight glowed enough for them to make their way forward.

Suddenly, an enormous green and brown dragon roared up in front of them, belching fire and waving its arms furiously.

It's possible Eric had squealed and tried to form a shield out of thin air, but then again it's also possible that everyone else in the group had alternately screamed or started to run until Diana began to laugh.

"Guys! We just stepped on the pressure switch that triggers the dragon. It's fake, not real," she said, pointing at the spot where the cars would normally have made the robot move.

"Yeah," Eric said, dusting imaginary dirt from his shoulders. "I knew that. I just didn't know if the rest of you did."

"Well, if I remember right, the ride started to go all wonky pretty soon after that dragon went off," Hank said, staring ahead of them. "I think it was right about… there."

They stared around them, looking at the exact spot they'd been fished out of almost a week ago. They moved towards it, standing on top of the bent metal and shattered plaster, and waited.

"Does anybody know what time it is?" Sheila asked, staring up at the moonlight coming through the ceiling above.

"11:59," Presto said, glancing at his digital watch.

Suddenly, the moon's light was coming directly through the hole overhead, and it became brighter, whiter, more intense than was physically possible… at least in their world.

"Something tells me it just hit midnight!" Eric yelled as the winds of another vortex swirled around them, warping reality and propelling them forward into the unknown once more.

When the world stopped moving again, they were on the outskirts of a swamp that smelled all too familiar.

"Where are we? The town dump?" Bobby asked, holding his nose.

"Nope, I'd recognize this stench anywhere," Diana said. "We're back in the Swamp of Darkness."

"Yeah!" Presto said excitedly, "The one right outside of Varla's village! Come on!"

"Uh, does anyone else remember that the last time we were there the villagers wanted to burn us at the stake?" Eric said, moving his cloak out of the way of the water.

His cloak? Yes, he was back in chainmail again, and a glance at everyone else showed that they too were once more in their clothes as Ranger, Acrobat, Thief, Barbarian, and Magician. Terry was now in a knee-length dress of dark blue fabric, the exact color of the jeans she had been wearing earlier, with bell sleeves and a pair of dark brown boots. She didn't seem to have noticed the change, nor had the others.

"Hey, they never actually said they were going to burn us at the stake," Diana said.

"Technically, no," Eric said, "so maybe they could have been planning to drown us instead."

"See, there's optimism," Diana said with a smirk. "But we've got to get out of here before we all keel over from the smell."

"With that, I agree," Eric said, and he followed in the others' footsteps as Presto led the way towards the village.

It wasn't until then that Eric noticed that he did not have his shield. None of them had weapons. He frowned and decided it might be better to wait and bring that little point up when they were inside, safely away from prying ears and eyes.

They walked on and on through the darkness, waiting to see the lights of the little village, but there was nothing but darkness. The three moons of the Realm were at half, quarter, and new, so there wasn't anywhere near as much light to see by as there had been back on Earth, and Eric was beginning to suspect that Presto had lost his way. He would have made a very witty and pithy comment about it, but frankly he was too worried to come up with one.

"It should be right here," Presto said, looking around them in confusion.

"Should be, but isn't," Hank said, bending to look at a dark shape near his feet. "This used to be a house. This whole place has been burned to the ground."

"What? Are you sure it's not one of Varla's illusions?" Sheila asked, running her hands over the charred wood.

"No," Presto said, "I'm pretty sure it isn't."

"How do you know?" Eric asked suspiciously.

"I don't know how I know, I just know, you know?" Presto said.

"No, I don't know how you know. If I knew how you know, you know I wouldn't ask how you know that you know," Eric said. "So no."

"Try saying that five times fast," Bobby said out of the corner of his mouth to Terry.

"Look, obviously something bad happened here," Hank said, glancing around warily, "and whatever did it might still be hanging around. I think we should seek some kind of shelter until morning."

"Good idea," Sheila said. "I'm bushed."

"I'm not tired," Bobby said through a yawn, but the way he was leaning heavily against a tree trunk suggested he was going to be asleep in another second.

They picked out a spot that had some coverage in case of an attack but was still open enough to allow them to run if they needed to, then bunked down in a circle, completely exhausted. No one stirred until morning.

When dawn came, the two suns seemed dimmer than normal. There was light, of course, but it felt shaky and thin somehow, like afternoon light in winter when the sun goes down too early. At first Eric wondered if they'd all overslept, but no, the suns were definitely low in the east, exactly where they should be in the morning even in the Realm.

The ruins that daylight did reveal were not a happy sight. Hank was right. The whole village had been razed to the ground, and it seemed as though there hadn't been anyone there for quite a while. It suddenly occurred to Eric that time might be moving differently in the Realm than it did on Earth. After all, years had passed here and not more than an hour or two had at home. If they'd been gone for days in Earth time, centuries could have passed since then.

"Uh, guys," Eric said. "How long have we been gone?"

"Same thing was going through my mind," Diana said, "but it can't have been that long. Varla didn't look much older than the last time we saw her."

"Yeah… if she ages like a normal person," Eric said, frowning. "Hey, Presto, your girlfriend might have a millennium or two on you now."

"Shut up," Presto said. "There has to be a reason she sent us here. Look around. Maybe there's a sign or something."

"Or Dungeon Master. Or some weapons. Or a map. Or a Magic Eight Ball," Eric grumbled, stretching the kinks out of his back. He might not miss a lot about home, but his bed was definitely on the list. "Nice, hot oatmeal and some fried eggs wouldn't be bad either."

"Presto's right," Hank said. "I don't think that vortex pulled us here accidentally."

"Fine, fine, but I'm keeping an eye open for breakfast, too," Eric said, starting to prod around the burned out remains of the village.

It wasn't long before Terry called out, "Over here!" and everyone came rushing to the charred spot where the jail that had once held them used to stand. There in the soot was, unmistakably, an arrow pointing eastward towards the forest.

"Okay," Hank said. "I guess we go that way, then. Keep a sharp eye out for any other trail markers."

"Righty-oh, mon capitan," Eric said with a mock salute, but he trudged along in line like everyone else, looking left and right for any clues.

They travelled onwards, moving as closely along the line of the arrow as they could, and eventually arrived in a small clearing. An X made of white stones marked the ground.

"This must be the place," Hank said. "X marks the spot."

"Yeah," Presto said, "I guess. I don't feel anything."

"Oh no?" Eric said, his eyes going wide. "I think I see something, though!"

Just over the topmost branches of the tree across from them was not one but five heads, each one like something from a nightmare. Tiamat was coming towards them, and they were in the open, defenseless and doing everything but holding up a Free Lunch sign.

"Well, don't just stand there gawking!" Eric yelled. "Run!"

"No," came a screeching voice as Tiamat entered the clearing. "There is no use in it, and it is not my intention to harm you… now."

"Oh, that's real comforting," Eric said. "What about fifteen minutes from now?"

"Silence, fool," the dragon said, and its white head let off a short stream of ice in protest. "The girl Varla has sent me to you."

"Varla sent you?" Presto asked doubtfully. "Why should we believe you?"

"She said if you did not believe me, I was to tell you that when she stumbled down the mountain and you lifted her, she whispered in your ear the words—" the dragon began, but Presto abruptly interrupted her.

"Okay, okay, no one else knows she said anything. We can leave it there," Presto said.

"No, I think I wanna know for sure," Eric said with a grin.

"'You're standing on my dress,'" Tiamat continued anticlimactically.

"Oh," Eric said, disappointed. "That's what you didn't want everybody to hear?"

"Hey, it was my one big hero moment," Presto said. "Can I at least have the illusion of being suave once?"

"No," Eric said, then turned to Tiamat. "So, let's say we believe Varla sent you. What does she want us to do?"

"I am to bring you to her," Tiamat shrieked, the red head releasing a small jet of flame as though in disgust.

"And you're doing this why exactly?" Hank asked.

"You may help in the battle we fight against the Shadow, and I hate it more than I loathe you," the dragon said, spitting acid on the ground and shriveling the grass to punctuate that it seemed to be a near miss in her levels of dislike.

"Okay, so we're on the same side," Diana said. "Fine. I'm good with that if you are, so lead the way."

Tiamat snorted, and then bent her five necks towards the ground.

"Wait… you want us to ride you?" Eric said in disbelief.

"No, I do not want you to ride me," Tiamat said, raising the blue head towards him, "but I must let you this once. It is the only way to be certain no one finds your trail."

The kids looked at one another with varying degrees of trepidation, but eventually Hank mounted the red neck where it joined the dragon's shoulders. Eric, not to be outdone, chose the green one, while Presto threw a shaky leg across the blue neck and Diana sat on the white one. Sheila looked nervously at the black neck, then at her brother and his friend.

"So, who wants to…," she began.

"I shall carry the two smallest in my claws," Tiamat said. "Waste no more time! They are coming!"

Sheila quickly climbed onto the black neck, and Tiamat gripped Bobby in her left hand and Terry in her right.

"Hey, watch it!" he yelled. "Those claws are sharp."

"And poisoned," Tiamat added. "Stop struggling or I may decide that bringing six back is quite enough."

"You'd drop me?" Bobby said, looking angry.

"No," Tiamat said, shaking her right hand, "her."

"Okay, okay, I'm quiet," Bobby said, keeping his mouth firmly shut.

What happened next was something Eric could never forget. With a thunderous rush of wind, the dragon's great orange wings pumped the air three times, and then lifted them from the ground and high into the sky in less than a heartbeat. He clung for dear life to the green scales in front of him, apparently too tightly since the head whipped around to hiss at him fiercely. He willed himself to slacken his grip a little, and he looked down at the world beneath him. The countryside was speeding past, hills and valleys, fields, forests, mountains, but the one thing they all had in common was none of them seemed vibrant. It was like a thin layer of shadow clung to everything.

At last they reached a great desert of yellow sand that continued as far as the eye could see. The shadow didn't seem to have penetrated this far, and Eric found himself able to breathe better in this place. The dragon's wings still beat the air in steady strokes, but they were slowing, and Eric could see they were beginning to get closer to the ground. He glanced sideways and saw Diana with a look of exhilaration on her face, her hair blown back in the wind. She was actually enjoying this. Hank, however, looked a little bit green. Somehow this gave Eric a moment's satisfaction.

A few minutes later, Tiamat's feet touched the sand, and with a gentle bowing of her heads, they dismounted. There was a small collection of tents only a few yards away.

"Thank you for the ride," Sheila called up to her.

Tiamat stared at her. Eric swore he saw the white head roll its eyes in disbelief, but the dragon merely flapped her wings and took flight, creating a small sandstorm as she rose and flew further east, becoming nothing but a dot in the sky and then disappearing entirely.

"She's here," Presto said, his voice cracking in excitement, and he took off running at top speed towards a tent on the far end of the little settlement.


	5. Chapter 5: The Shadow Left Behind

For notes, please see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" – The Police

"Owner of a Lonely Heart" – Yes

"Separate Ways" – Journey

"Time (Clock of the Heart)" – Culture Club

Chapter 5: The Shadow Left Behind

The others followed close on Presto's heels, catching up with him as he tried to figure out how to open the tent flap. He needn't have bothered, though, as the ties were quickly undone from the inside and Varla pushed the door aside.

She stood silhouetted against the light of a brazier burning inside, her red hair glistening in the sunlight, still clothed in white, and her eyes sparkled with joy.

"Hi," Presto said, seemingly unable to move and not even blinking so he didn't miss a moment of seeing her.

"Hello," Varla replied, equally frozen, her eyes drinking him in.

"Yeah, good morning, nice to see you again, when's breakfast, and what are we doing here," Eric said, pushing past her into the tent.

"You just do not have a single romantic bone in your entire body, do you," Sheila said, shaking her head as she followed him in.

"Not when I haven't had anything to eat for this long," Eric said, then spotted kebabs roasting on the brazier. "Ah-ha! Food!"

"It is intended for you, my children," said another voice they recognized at once, and this time Eric really was pleased.

"Rahmoud!" he said, completely forgetting about food and giving him a hug. "It's great to see you again!"

"And you," he said, returning Eric's unusual show of affection with a ruffling of his hair. "All of you have been missed."

"We've missed you too," Sheila said, hugging him in turn. "How's Aiyesha?"

"Very well, very well," Rahmoud said, carefully removing a kebab from the brazier and handing it to Sheila. "She has no more bad dreams, and the children are free. However, there are other things that weigh upon the Realm now. But first, eat and refresh yourselves after your journey. We shall speak of these things later."

Rahmoud got no argument from the gang as they tore into the food. Bobby explained to Terry about their previous experience with the City on the Edge of Midnight, and she smiled shyly at Rahmoud, who treated her as one of his children as much as the others. Any friend of theirs was his as well, he told them. Eric had nearly forgotten how much he liked Rahmoud, and he felt more relaxed in his tent than he had in a very long time.

When they'd all had their fill, and considering Eric's appetite no one could figure out how he could still fit into his armor, they sat around the fire and waited expectantly for the explanation of their summons. Varla looked at Presto, who had eaten less than the rest and never taken his eyes from her face, and interlaced her fingers with his.

"It has been a year since Venger was redeemed," Varla said, "and much has happened since then."

"A year, huh?" Eric said. "It's been a week for us."

"Will you let her get on with the story?" Diana urged him, slapping his arm.

He vaguely considered mouthing off again on the off chance she'd do that again.

"Go on," Presto encouraged her. "What happened?"

"Though Venger remains one on the side of light, his minion, the Shadow Demon whom he forced to do his will, has gained power," Varla explained. "Part of the bargain Venger struck when he put aside his goodness and became a servant of the forces of evil was that he should have the Shadow Demon as his servant and spy in return. When the bargain was broken, the Shadow Demon became free once more, and it was only then that the scope of its might became known."

"Wait, the Shadow Demon?" Eric said. "That wispy thing Venger used to have? You called us back here to fight a shadow puppet?"

"He's no puppet," Varla said. "You have seen how the light of the Realm is dimmed throughout the west. Each day the shadow grows longer, trying to capture more and more, and what falls under its spell is enslaved to its will. It must be stopped or else all the land will be in darkness."

"Can't Dungeon Master help you?" Sheila asked.

"No," Varla said, looking sad. "He went to the far west to try to battle the demon, but he did not return. We fear he may be dead."

"Dungeon Master? Dead?" Eric said. "Nah. He's way too smart for that."

"I hope that you are right," Varla said, but her voice sounded uncertain.

"So what can we do to help?" Hank asked.

"There is a prophecy that says the darkness may be defeated by the seven who came from the other world, returned from the Realm, and breached the gap again to bring back the light," Varla said.

"That does sound like us," Presto said.

"Yeah, but how do we do it?" Diana asked.

"By going into the edge of the west, finding the Shadow Demon in its lair, and smiting it with the Crystal of the Two Suns," Varla said.

"Boy, this prophet sure was specific," Eric said. "I don't suppose he knows the winning spread on the Super Bowl this year by any chance?"

"Raiders over Redskins, 38 to 9," Varla said without missing a beat, "and the prophet isn't a he but a she. Me, actually."

"They told her that her powers would grow over time," Rahmoud said. "This is another that has come forth."

"Illusions, prophecies, inter-dimensional holographic phone calls," Eric counted off on his fingers. "Your girlfriend's got some pretty marketable talents there, Presto."

Varla smiled at Presto, and he blushed a very bright red that clashed horribly with his green wizard's robes.

"Okay, so we need to get the Crystal of the Two Suns, and we could really use our weapons," Hank said. "How do we go about getting those?"

"Tiamat has returned to the Dragon's Graveyard to find your weapons," Rahmoud said. "She will return with them on the morrow, for it is a long journey, even for a dragon."

"Yeah, how exactly did you get old Five Heads working for you?" Eric asked.

"She hates the Shadow Demon as well," Varla explained. "It means to extinguish all light, and as dragons have fire within them, this means she too will perish. She is not a friendly ally, but she is a trustworthy one."

"It's gonna be weird, getting our weapons from Tiamat," Bobby said. "I think I like Dungeon Master playing Santa Claus better. I hope he's okay."

"Me too, Bobby," Sheila said with a worried look towards the door that opened to the west. "Me too."

The rest of the day was spent relaxing befor the upcoming battle and catching up on the rest of the changes since they had been gone. Varla's parents had escaped the burning of their village, but they had both been injured. They had gone into hiding with others who needed time to heal in another settlement even farther east. Venger was anxious to prove himself after his fall from grace, but his punishment for his choices had been the removal of his ability to do magic. He had received a minor injury in a skirmish with some of the Shadow Demon's minions, and he was expected to arrive back in camp the next day.

But the visitors tried to enjoy at least one day back in the Realm, not thinking of the battles that lay ahead. Eric, for his part, spent a good part of the day in the shade of the tent, watching the suns trace their path across the sky. He sighed in contentment, then went outside to get a pitcher of water from the nearby oasis. It was strange, he thought, that when he was in the Realm the first time, all he could think of was how much he wanted to be home. Once he got home, some part of him had always wanted to be back here. Now that he'd returned, he felt no draw at all towards Earth. He missed his brother, but his parents, school, the home that was really just a house, all of it felt less important now.

He stood with his back against a palm tree and drank deeply from the pitcher, the water tasting cool and fresh after the hot sun. Suddenly, he heard a faint cry from behind him. Turning on instinct, immediately in a battle position, he realized the sound was coming from behind a thicker stand of palms. He moved cautiously towards it, ready for anything from an Orc attack to a relapsed Venger, then heard scuffling noises as though a fight were taking place. Realizing they were probably in an ambush, he grabbed a large stone from the ground and hoisted it, ready to hurl it at the unknown foe.

He rounded the corner and stopped in complete shock.

Presto and Varla were lying together on a richly patterned rug spread under the base of one of the trees, facing one another. He cradled her face with one of his hands as he kissed her, touching her as though she were made of porcelain. Clasping him tightly around the waist, she closed her eyes in bliss, and a low moan filled the air. As Eric watched, dumbstruck, she rolled them so she lay on top of Presto, then rested her head against his heart. Presto's hands tangled themselves in her hair, and he pulled her upwards towards his mouth to kiss her again, holding her like the most precious thing in the world. She bent to whisper something in his ear, and Eric was pretty sure it wasn't "You're standing on my dress" this time.

Eric delicately tiptoed away back towards the camp, certain that they hadn't noticed his intrusion. He was just glad he hadn't hit them with the rock.

"Hey, Eric," Diana called when she saw him, "have you seen Presto anywhere?"

"No!" he yelped. "I have absolutely not seen Presto or Varla anywhere at all, no, no, no I have not!"

Diana stared after him as he darted into the tent, wondering what on earth was up with him, then shrugged and chalked it up to the mystery that was Eric. For his part, Eric spent the rest of the afternoon desperately trying not to imagine Diana and him on that rug dappled with sunshine, and failed miserably.

Hank, however, was in conference with Rahmoud, trying to pick up any stray bits of information that might help them. From his face when he finally came back to the tent, Eric could tell he hadn't been very successful.

"No luck?" he asked.

"None," Hank said, sitting down near the brazier and staring at the flames.

"Well, maybe Varla will get another brain wave before we set out tomorrow," Eric said hopefully.

"Maybe," Hank said, "but our first destination isn't exactly my favorite place in this world."

"And that would be?" Eric asked.

"The Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn," Hank said, glancing from the flames over to Eric. "That's where the Crystal of the Two Suns is kept."

"The place where we all nearly got killed and the only way we escaped was Dungeon Master teleporting us out?" Eric said, his voice getting hysterical. "That Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn?"

"It's the only one I know about," Hank said, sighing heavily.

"If they've got a spare one laying around somewhere that's full of ice cream cones and puppy dogs, now would be a good time for them to tell us," Eric grumbled.

"Yeah," Hank said. "That'd be nice. You ever notice how absolutely nothing is ever easy in the Realm?"

"Earth isn't exactly a picnic on the beach every day either," Eric said. "Still, I'm going to feel a lot better once we've got our weapons back. We're way too vulnerable like this."

Hank nodded silently in agreement, staring at the flames again and lost in thought.

"Hank?" Eric asked after a long moment. "Is there anything you like about this place?"

"No," he answered immediately, then grimaced. "That's not true. I like some of the people here… beings... whatever they are. Like Rahmoud and Varla, they're good. But I belong back home. We all do. None of us are meant to be here."

"Yeah," Eric said, "I guess not."

Eric's eyes didn't meet Hank's, though, and he got to his feet and left the tent, looking out over the open desert as the sky darkened into evening. Not far away, Sheila was speaking with some of the women of Rahmoud's tribe, kneading bread dough into a large, flat circle on a paddle to be baked. She laughed at something one of them said, and Eric thought she seemed pretty happy all things considered. A little farther off, he caught sight of Bobby and Terry playing some game of their own invention that looked a little like a combination of baseball and hopscotch using rocks and sticks. Terry was giggling as Bobby tried to toss a small stone backwards over his shoulder into a space she'd drawn in the sand.

But Eric couldn't see Diana anywhere. After wandering aimlessly from one tent to another, he finally caught sight of her standing off by herself, watching the sky. As he approached her, he noticed that the first stars were starting to appear, glowing brilliantly above the desert. Their light made the edges of her silhouette clear against the dark blue of the sky, almost as though her skin glowed with the luster of silver. Eric caught his breath. She looked beautiful, powerful, but wistful.

"I know you're there," she said when he was still a good fifteen feet away.

He gulped and was suddenly reminded of a story his English teacher had told them once, a Greek myth about the goddess Diana who had caught someone watching her. If he remembered right, she'd sicced his own dogs on him until he was pulled apart. Hopefully she wasn't quite that mad.

"Then we're even," he said, continuing towards here. He looked up at the sky, wondering what she was searching for. "So… what're you doing?"

She took a deep breath and shook her head.

"Nothing," she said. "Just looking. Trying to pick out constellations, I guess."

"Diana, don't take this the wrong way, but you're a really lousy liar," Eric said. "You're thinking about Starfall."

She didn't reply right away, but then she sighed softly and said, "Maybe."

"Seriously, you spent, what, one whole day with Kosar?" Eric said, instantly jealous. "I mean, I get that he was cute in that whole Michael Jackson-esque kind of way, but was he really so spectacular that you keep mooning about him for years?"

Diana gave him a sharp, bitter look and said, "What would you know about it, Eric? You've never loved anyone but yourself."

She turned and stalked off towards the camp, disappearing into the shadows.

"Not true," Eric said quietly to no one, looking at her retreating form, "but I'm starting to think no one's ever loved me. Or ever will."


	6. Chapter 6: Gifts and Goodbyes

For notes, please see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"Abracadabra" – Steve Miller Band

"October" – U2

"Edge of Seventeen" – Stevie Nicks

Small note: there were two little inconsistencies in this that I changed from the original draft.

Chapter 6: Gifts and Goodbyes

Eric slept poorly that night. Rahmoud put all of the travelers into one tent, and while Eric mentally wondered if grouping that many hormones in one space was a good idea, there didn't seem to be any untoward liaisons happening under his nose. The only mischief anyone got up to was an impromptu game of flashlight tag played with torches between Bobby and Terry that involved enough giggling that Eric stuck his pillow over his head to drown them out. Eventually, even they fell asleep, and Eric was left to listen to everyone's breathing, his thoughts glumly retracing the same patterns over and over. No matter how many times he told himself he should go to sleep, that he was going to be a sitting duck in a fight come morning if he didn't get enough rest, he just couldn't make his eyes stay shut.

Morning came, and Eric wasn't sure if he'd slept at all. He was already awake when Rahmoud pulled back the flap of the tent and let in the morning light, but what got him to his feet was the sound of a large horse approaching, its hooves thudding dully against the sand, clear in the morning stillness. As far as he knew, there were expecting only two visitors to the camp that day, and one of them most definitely wouldn't be riding a horse, at least not unless it was a five-headed one.

"Hank?" Eric called in a low voice to the next bed. "You up?"

"Yeah," he replied, "I heard it too."

"Reformed or not, I really don't want Venger catching us all asleep the first time we see him again," Eric said, pulling his greaves onto his legs and adding his boots.

"Good point," Hank agreed, slipping his own shoes on as well.

"You're not the only ones," Sheila said, already sitting up.

"Aw, man," Bobby moaned, "it can't be morning yet!"

He determinedly rolled over, stuffed his head under a fur wrap, and was immediately snoring again.

"That's my kid brother," Sheila said, looking with amusement at his bed. "Venger shows up at the door and he still goes back to sleep."

Eric glanced around the tent and realized everyone else was up as well, readying themselves, and as the hooves stopped completely and someone dismounted, he distinctly heard Varla gasp.

"Are you okay?" Presto asked.

"Yes," she said, "I'm sorry, but even after his redemption, I can't help but remember…"

"Hey, he kidnapped you, tortured you, and nearly killed you," Presto said, his face darkening. "There'd be something wrong with you if you did feel okay with him."

She smiled at him.

"Do you want to stay here?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "It won't be the first time I've seen him since then. It's just… awkward."

"Then we'll go together," he said, taking her hand.

"We'll all go," Eric said, hoisting himself to his feet with a stiff clanking, "but if it's alright, Presto, I'm not holding your hand."

Diana snorted with laughter, but Eric could still tell she wasn't back to normal yet. It didn't matter, though. Everyone except Bobby headed outside together, but Eric hadn't quite been expecting what he saw.

It was Nightmare, looking precisely the same as she had when the evil Venger had ridden her across the sky. She was still coal black, red tipping her hooves and glinting in her eyes. Eric couldn't help it if he broke out in a cold sweat. The horse just seemed to have that effect on people as everyone else looked similarly nervous with the exception of Diana.

Diana had experience with horses, as everyone in the group knew from her attempts at riding various creatures of the Realm. Her aunt had owned a riding stable on the outskirts of town, and she'd all but been born in a saddle. She approached the horse slowly, carefully, extending a hand towards her forelock. To everyone's amazement, the horse nuzzled into her touch, closed her eyes and whickered softly.

"Aw, see," Diana said. "She's a good girl, aren't you!"

Eric raised an eyebrow uncertainly. He wasn't sure he'd go so far as to call her "good," but at least she hadn't taken Diana's arm off, so that was something.

Venger was nowhere to be seen, but as Nightmare was tied up outside Rahmoud's tent, it was an easy guess whom he was talking to. By now Sheila and Terry had joined Diana in petting the horse, who was still perfectly docile except for a tendency to snort small sparks every few seconds.

"Weird," Bobby said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking with undisguised confusion at the girls petting the horse.

"I don't know," Hank said. "Something about girls and horses just goes together, I guess."

"Huh," Bobby said. "I guess that explains _My Little Pony_."

"Does it strike anybody else as incredibly strange that we're standing out here waiting to talk to Venger of all people… if Venger even actually is a person," Eric said.

"Yeah," Presto said, and Eric noted that Varla had stayed beside him rather than going up to Nightmare. "Things change."

"I hope so," Eric said.

A few moments later, Rahmoud walked out of the tent, followed closely by Venger. It was still startling to see him without a horn, fangs, or wings. Heck, his eyes didn't even cross anymore. He looked surprisingly normal without the red and silver robes he'd previously worn; in fact, aside from being unusually tall, he looked downright ordinary.

"Venger," Hank said by way of a greeting.

"Ranger," he responded.

"Great, we can rhyme," Eric said. "Can we all just not pretend this isn't incredibly uncomfortable and move to the next level here?"

Venger's eyes went to him immediately, and a ghost of a smile played over his lips.

"It is indeed awkward," Venger agreed, and his voice, though still deep, sounded much less, well, evil than it had before. "I thank you again for freeing me from the cenotaph. My mistakes were many, and mercy was not a fate I thought would be mine."

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome," Eric said. "Can we get back to the problem of your ex-lackey trying to plunge the Realm into eternal darkness?"

"We shall leave later today to journey towards the Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn," Venger said.

"We?" Sheila asked, turning away from the horse and walking warily towards them. "You're coming with us?"

"I know the Shadow Demon better than anyone else, and he has taken my father," he replied, and for a moment the smallest spark of red crept into his eyes. "He will regret that choice."

"You know, I never really got that," Eric said. "So Kareena is your sister and Dungeon Master is your dad. Nobody in your family looks like anybody! Who the heck is your mother?"

"Eric," Presto hissed warningly. "That's not very polite."

"It's Venger, specifically de-fanged Venger," Eric said. "I'm not sticking diplomacy at the top of my priority list."

"Mother died after Kareena's birth when I was still very young," Venger said, his voice slightly annoyed. "I had not yet turned one hundred. She was a shape shifter, as is Kareena and as I once was before the penalty was exacted for my treachery."

"You actually chose to look like a one-horned, black-winged, chalk-faced demon with a massive overbite?" Eric asked.

Venger seemed to shrug.

"I found it got the effect I wanted," he said, then turned to Sheila. "My sister wished me to convey her greetings to you along with this."

He handed her a small box. When she opened it, the Ring of Heart fell into her palm, its red gem glittering in the sunlight.

"Oh, that's nice," Sheila said, smiling as she placed the ring on her finger. "Thank you. Where is she?"

"The last I saw of her, she was in a somewhat less than pleasant dimension being tutored in the dark arts," Venger said.

"Um… well, I guess I'm glad she's happy?" Sheila said uncertainly.

"I believe she is," Venger said, though he didn't venture any opinion as to whether that was a good thing. "Tiamat should return soon with your weapons, and then we may leave, the more quickly, the better."

"Fine by us," Hank said. "Come on, guys. Let's pack up."

"Are we travelling by dragon again or using those weird short-nosed elephants of Rahmoud's?" Eric asked.

"We shall be travelling in a caravan. The dungeon is not far from here, no more than two days' ride," Venger said. "There are too many of us for Tiamat to carry, and in spite of our truce, I do not think she would willingly allow me to ride her."

"You are correct," came a rasping voice from overhead, and the five-headed dragon appeared at the center of a vortex in the sky above. "I would never willingly bear you even if universes should perish."

"What the heck did you do to tick her off that much?" Eric asked Venger as she landed beside the nearest tent.

"Before our first battle centuries ago, she was originally a six-headed dragon," he replied.

"Oh," Eric said, looking moderately impressed. "Yup, that'd do it."

Tiamat dropped a simple burlap sack to the ground, hissing slightly as she did so.

"You will find your weapons within," she said. "Take care. Their powers are still heightened from the Dragon's Graveyard, though that will diminish in time."

Hank went first, retrieving his energy bow and testing the weight of it in his hand. Cautiously, he pulled back on the glowing string and aimed at a distant rock. When he let the bolt fly, the energy crackled through the air like lightning and didn't merely split the rock but reduced it to cinders. Diana's staff came next, followed by Presto's hat (he really did look a lot taller with it on), Bobby's club, Eric's shield, and Sheila's cloak. The bag, however, did not appear to be empty.

"There is one remaining," the dragon said. "The bones told me to bring this to the Dreamer."

Terry looked uncertain, but placed her hand in the bag.

"If she's the one who finally gets an actual sword, I'm quitting in protest," Eric said, leaning against his shield.

It was not a sword Terry produced, though, but a glowing net that looked familiar.

"Hey, that's the thing that saved Uni in the Dragon's Graveyard!" Bobby said, walking to Terry and examining the net. "It heals really bad wounds. You just throw it over whoever's hurt and pow, no more problem!"

"That's the way it worked in the graveyard, Bobby," Hank said. "I don't know if it'll be that powerful after the supercharge on it wears off."

"Even so, it's still a good thing to have handy," Sheila said.

They looked at their weapons, remembering the feel of them as though becoming reintroduced to old friends, and a silence fell over them as they each began feeling their heft, testing their range. Terry, for her part, was weaving her fingers through the net with her eyes shut, almost as though she were listening to it. Eric remembered that in the graveyard Sheila had said the net felt as though it were alive, and now he found himself wondering if maybe all their weapons were a bit more alive, even sentient, than he'd given them credit for… not that he was planning on having a conversation with his shield anytime soon.

"We should leave now," Venger said. "Rahmoud has prepared mounts for us."

They went quickly back to the tent and found Rahmoud had already put sacks full of provisions on each of their beds. It seemed so final, realizing that they were leaving the small oasis and going back to the Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn. Their adventures were beginning all over again, but this time, Eric wasn't being dragged in against his will.

"Come on," he said, shouldering his bag. "Let's move out."

When the gang of them came to the open sand where Rahmoud kept his animals, they divided into pairs, each duo standing beside one of the strange, vaguely elephantine creatures with horns and tusks. Venger would be riding one as well as Nightmare was too exhausted from their earlier journey to travel again. Hank took up his position with Sheila at the front, followed by Presto and Varla on a slightly smaller beast. Diana had to choose between riding with Venger or Eric as it was obvious Terry and Bobby, currently in the middle of an argument over whether _Star Wars_ or _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ was better, were definitely staying together. She frowned at Eric, and he realized that she had to still be pretty angry about their conversation from the night.

"You'll do, but I'm driving," she finally said unenthusiastically, grabbing Eric by the gauntlet and walking him towards the nearest animal.

This left Venger with the last of Rahmoud's beasts, but there didn't seem to be anything left for Bobby and Terry.

"Hey, Rahmoud!" Bobby called. "You've run out of… what are these things called again?"

"They are korznas, young Barbarian," he said, "and I thought perhaps you would prefer a different mount."

Rahmoud gave a loud, bird-like whistle, and immediately a smaller animal shot from its hiding place between two tents.

"Uni!" Bobby shouted happily, running towards her. "Gosh, I've missed you, girl!"

The unicorn gave an ecstatic bleat and raced towards him. It was clear that the once-baby unicorn had grown in the year since they had left. Her head now reached just above Bobby's shoulder as she nuzzled him affectionately.

"But… can she carry me and Terry too?" Bobby asked, turning to Rahmoud.

"The unicorn can shoulder great burdens without effort," Rahmoud said. "She seems pleased to carry you and your friend."

In fact, Uni had already butted Terry onto her back. The girl looked absolutely delighted, patting the unicorn's mane fondly.

"Thanks, Uni," she said, smiling. "Hop on, Bobby!"

Bobby settled himself behind her on Uni's back, and the little unicorn did indeed seem more than equal to carrying two small humans. With another bleat, she jogged to her position in line between Eric and Diana's korzna and Venger's.

"My children," Rahmoud called up to them, "I wish you every good luck. I would go with you, but I must remain here to help organize the rest of the resistance against the Shadow Demon. Know that my heart goes with you all, and I look forward to rejoicing with you when our enemy is defeated."

"Thank you for everything, Rahmoud," Hank said, bowing from atop his korzna. "We hope we'll see you again soon."

"Really," Eric said, trying to put all the affection he had for Rahmoud into the word. "Tell Aiyesha… tell her she's lucky."

"Indeed, and now, remembering to roll your r's…," Rahmoud prompted them.

"Katrrrrrrash!" Eric yelled with significantly more volume than he needed, and it took all of Diana's skill to keep their korzna from racing off across the desert, leaving everyone else in the dust.


	7. Chapter 7: Predators and Prey

For notes, please see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"Hungry Like the Wolf" – Duran Duran

"Eye of the Tiger" – Survivor

"Hard to Say I'm Sorry" – Chicago

Chapter 7: Predators and Prey

The trip was long, dusty, and tiring. The blowing sand swept across their faces, and anyone who tried to speak soon had a mouthful of grit. Rahmoud had provided each of them with scarves to ward off the worst of the wind, and the hot sun beat down on them mercilessly. The air was filled only with the sound of wind. Everything else was silence.

Slowly but surely, the sun began its descent into the west behind them, and Hank finally brought his korzna to a stop, signaling for the others to make camp. They positioned their korznas in a ring around their small campfire to act as a windbreak. Eric rooted through his bag and came up with some kind of beef jerky (though he decided it was better not to ask exactly what kind of animal the beef was actually from) and passed around a portion to everyone while Sheila filled cups with the water in her sack. They were quiet for a while, each one chewing and sipping thoughtfully, wondering what lay ahead.

"Okay, well, I guess we can agree that anything with Harrison Ford in it is good," Bobby said to Terry, breaking the silence.

"You guys are still arguing _Star Wars_ vs. _Indiana Jones_?" Eric said, staring at them.

"We never really finished it," Terry said.

Eric rolled his eyes, but he was glad somebody had finally spoken. He had something in mind he wanted to ask, but he wasn't sure he if the answer was something he wanted to hear. Granted, that had never stopped him before.

"Venger?" he said, looking across the campfire at the man who was eating slightly apart from the circle. "What exactly is the Shadow Demon? He worked for you for a long time, so if anybody knows, you would."

Venger stopped and looked up at the rest of the group, his eyes flickering in the firelight.

"He was bound to me as my slave when I formed my bargain with the Nameless One," Venger said, sounding as though he didn't want to remember this. "I never trusted him, but then I trusted no one. As to what he is, I have only suspicions."

"Like what?" asked Presto.

"He is powerful. Though he appears to be mere shadow, lacking substance, he can also move objects, break through solid ice, and touch both things and beings. When he chooses, he can blend into any shadow, melting into the darkness. You have no idea how many times he followed you in the days you were here. He was the perfect spy," Venger said.

"So… he could actually be here right now and we wouldn't even know?" Diana asked, glancing at the darkness outside the circle of their campfire.

"Yes," Venger said, looking stoically at the flames. "He could be anywhere. And his power is growing."

All of them looked around at once, wondering what else was under the darkness of the stars.

"I think…," Venger said slowly, "I think he may be a fragment of the Nameless One, a shattered remnant left in its wake, though I have no proof. There is no good in him, no warmth, no humanity, nothing. There is only an endless hunger for power and the misery of others."

"Nice," Eric said, shuddering. "How many times did this guy make your Employee of the Month club?"

"Can't you ever be serious, Eric?" Diana said, annoyed.

"What, is being serious about this thing going to make it any easier to defeat?" he shot back. "What am I supposed to do? Cry? Scream? Head for the hills?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Diana said, giving him an icy glare. "I'm tired. We should all get some shut eye."

"Agreed," Hank said, but Eric realized the Ranger was staring at him, and he knew his cheeks had flushed red at the reminder that he'd been a coward more than once. "We have to leave early tomorrow. Everybody stay close in to the fire, and if there's any trouble, yell. Loud."

They pulled out sleeping bags and remained in a circle, the three moons glowing brightly overhead. Eric was too tired from not sleeping the previous night to remain awake long in spite of the sting he still felt from Diana's words, but his dreams were far from pleasant.

No one saw a single shadow dart across the fire or a pair of vacant white eyes glare maliciously at the group from the darkness.

The strike came an hour before dawn. The only warning was an almost ear-shattering cry of alarm from Uni, but that was all they needed. On instinct, every member of the group immediately took up defensive positions, reaching for weapons that had never been further than mere inches from their hands all night. It was as though they'd never left the Realm. They were a unit again, and somehow Terry, Varla, and Venger fit perfectly into place, closing any remaining gaps.

For a moment, everything remained quiet, the crackling of the dying fire sounding abnormally loud. Then, from every direction at once, howling began.

"What's that?" Presto asked, peering into the night between the korznas. "It sounds like… like wolves."

"Really, really big wolves," Sheila said, gritting her teeth.

"No," Varla said, shutting her eyes, her face twitching in spasms. "I can almost see them. They are… Worgs!"

The last word was said in shriek, and the howling returned, but mixed with intelligible speech.

"Foolish humans," the chorus took up around them. "Why have you returned to this world that was never yours?"

"None of your beeswax!" Eric spat at them, but the Worgs merely howled in menacing laughter.

"The Shadow Demon promised us a rare treat," the Worgs said as if they were one animal, their voices echoing from every direction. "Fresh meat, fresh kill, hearts soft as melted butter."

"Ugh," Bobby said.

"You said it," Diana agreed. "Look, either fight or go home, puppy dogs, but stop wasting our time."

Throughout this, Varla had kept her eyes closed, a look of total concentration on her features as though she were fighting a battle that the others didn't know about, but Presto noticed.

"What's happening?" he whispered to her.

"They are trying to sap us, surrounding us with gloom," she said. "It's their primary weapon. It is taking all of my power to keep it at bay, but I don't know how much longer I can fend them off. There are so many of them!"

Eric noticed that Venger was regarding Varla with heightened respect, and that by itself told him just how hard of a task Varla had in front of her.

"Okay, guys, now!" Hank yelled, and all at once the battle was upon them.

Yellow eyes by the dozens suddenly glowed in dying light from the fire, and then abruptly one of the korznas screamed and fell on its side, frighteningly still, struck by a rock delivered by an unseen hand. The others took off across the desert, trumpeting wildly, and then the Worgs were suddenly everywhere.

Eric heard the hum of Hank's energy bow taking shot after shot, most of them quickly followed by a yelp and the scent of singed fur. Bobby's club was also in high evidence as the ground began to shake violently. Somewhere behind him, he heard Diana throwing Worgs two at a time from her javelin, grunting with effort. Eerily, in the midst of all the tumult, Varla remained perfectly still, her features motionless and strained, obviously still fighting the Worgs' mental weapon.

Of course, Eric didn't have a whole lot of time to take in all of this as he was pretty busy smashing his shield left and right, scattering the hideous wolf-demon hybrids as much as he could, and we was pretty sure he'd sent several of them limping back towards the west. There were just too many of them, though, and he wasn't sure how much longer they could hold out.

"Alakazam, alakazee, give these big dogs a reason to flee!" Presto shouted as his hat glowed brightly.

"Yeah, that oughta work," Eric scoffed under his breath, and then the strangest thing happened; the Worgs really did start to run away.

"Hey, it worked!" Presto cried in glee as at least two dozen Worgs ran off, yelping all the way.

"I don't get it," Eric said, staring around him at the retreating monsters. "What did you do?"

And then it became clear as the last two Worgs ran away, scratching crazily at their hindquarters as though something were biting them.

"I don't believe it!" Sheila said, reappearing from underneath her cloak where she had been throwing rocks at the wolves. "Presto, you gave them all _fleas_!"

"That wasn't the kind of flee I meant, but I'll take it!" Presto said, happily putting his hat back on his head.

Venger, who had been fighting with a large knife, stared around at them, and Eric could almost swear he heard him mumble under his breath, "These were my arch nemeses?"

By now a thin sliver of sunlight was spreading across the east, and the danger had passed. Sadly, they looked around the remains of their camp, realizing most of their supplies had been trampled underfoot in the battle.

"Does anybody know how to call back the korznas?" Terry asked, squinting into the distance.

"No," Hank said. "I'm pretty sure they're all the way back to Rahmoud by now anyway. We're just going to have to walk the rest of the way. Sheila, how much water do we have left?"

"Not much," she said, holding up two canteens. "This is it. All the other canteens broke in the fight."

"Right," he said, looking worried. "Venger, do you know of any place around here with water?"

"Not in the desert, no," Venger said, "though there is a pool nearer the entrance to the Underworld. It should be about a six hours' walk."

"Six hours?" Bobby said, boggling. "In this heat? We're never gonna make it!"

"Oh yes we will," Hank said determinedly. "And we're starting right now before it gets any hotter."

They began walking across the desert, heading directly towards the rising suns. Uni started by taking Bobby and Terry onto her back again, but each of the others had a brief respite in turn. Finally, though, after a good four hours had passed, even Uni was beginning to become exhausted from the heat and the lack of water, and when Diana tried to get on her back for her break, Uni had shaken her head sadly.

"That's okay," Diana said, scratching her mane affectionately. "You've done way more than enough."

Uni bleated apologetically. Eric had been using his shield as a makeshift parasol, but he glanced up at it and then at Diana. She wasn't looking too good.

"Here," he said, handing her the shield. "I need to work on my tan anyway."

"Really?" she said, looking surprised.

"Yes, really," he said, sounding a little offended. "I can occasionally be gallant. I am a Cavalier after all."

"Well, thanks, I guess" she said, taking the shield but still looking unsure.

"I, uh," he paused, not sure what to say. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said the other night, you know, about…"

He wasn't sure whether saying Kosar's name would be a good idea.

"…about that one guy. You're the only one who knows how you felt, and I shouldn't have tried to argue with you about it."

"Did you seriously just apologize to me?" Diana asked, stopping in the seemingly endless walk and staring at him.

"Yeah, so shoot me," Eric said.

"I think I actually am gonna faint now. Either that or the heat's getting to you," she said, but she smiled at him, and somehow he knew they were alright again.

They walked on, and it seemed as though a lot more than six hours had passed before they saw the slightest glint of green on the horizon. Eric wasn't sure whether to trust his eyes, wondering if it could be a mirage, but for all their sakes he really hoped it wasn't. Sheila and Varla in particular with their red hair and fair skin looked like they had very bad sunburns. As they came closer, they realized it was no mirage at all but the pool Venger had told them about. With their last remaining scraps of energy, they staggered onwards until they collapsed on their bellies by the water and drank deeply. It was easily the most delicious thing Eric had ever tasted.

"Okay," he said, wiping his mouth with his fist , "where to now?"

"First we take a break," Hank said, pulling off one of his boots and pouring sand out of it along with a couple good-sized stones.

"Yeah," Presto agreed, slumping against a boulder. "Even my hat is drooping."

Terry was already using the net on Sheila and Varla, both of whom were teetering on the edge of sun poisoning. Thankfully the net worked wonders, and they were both well again in moments. She then went to each of the others in turn, healing blisters, scrapes, and bruises from the long journey. The net even seemed to relieve the weariness they all felt after their earlier battle and then their long walk.

"Let's move," Hank said all too soon. "We better reach the entrance to the Underworld by nightfall. Those Worgs might try to attack again tonight."

"Yeah, and maybe they've bought flea collars," Eric said, hoisting himself up from the sand and listening to his armor creak in protest. "How much further?"

"The entrance to the Underworld is at the base of those hills," Venger said, pointing towards their faint outline in the distance.

"Okay," Hank said, nodding. "We should be able to make that before dark if we leave now."

Uni blew a raspberry, but they set off again, crossing the sand that was rippling away into the distance like water. At least the remaining canteens were full again, but the day was no less hot, and the sun beat down upon them viciously. A wind kicked up, and at first everyone was glad of it, but it grew stronger, and the flying sand grated against their skin. Conversation stopped again, and keeping sight of their destination started to be difficult. The suns had passed their zenith and were behind them now, making their shadows start to grow in front of them. Considering their enemy, Eric found that creepy. At every step he half expected his own shadow would suddenly open a pair of searing white eyes and reach out to strangle him.


	8. Chapter 8: Afraid of the Dark

For notes, see chapter one.

Suggested music:

"Rainbow in the Dark" – Dio

"Pressure" – Billy Joel

"In the Air Tonight" – Phil Collins

Chapter 8: Afraid of the Dark

After what felt like forever, the hills appeared much larger, and their appearance wasn't at all reassuring. They didn't look natural at all but were perfectly round, rising to abnormally symmetrical domes of pale yellow stone. Presto squinted at them through his glasses as the sand continued to last against them.

"This place just feels wrong," he said. "It's like, I don't know…"

"It's like they aren't really there," Varla said, finding the words he couldn't, then she turned to Sheila. "What do you see?"

"Four hills, each one a little taller than the next going from left to right, covered in grass," Sheila said automatically.

"No, three hills, sis," Bobby said, "and there's no grass, only gravel."

Hank shook his head.

"One really jagged looking hill made of some kind of red quartz, and a smaller one that's smoother and more of a purple," he said.

"Wait, all of us are seeing something different?" Eric asked. "So which of us is looking at the real thing?"

"All of us, or maybe none of us," Varla said, staring at the place before them. "It's an illusion, and a very complicated one to make each of us see it differently. We should stay still until we figure out what to do. For all we know, we're really standing on the edge of a precipice."

"If anyone would know illusions, it would be you," Venger said, "but how do we remove it to see what's beneath?"

"I'm not sure we can," Varla said, worrying her lip. "There must be a way."

Just then, Uni tossed her reddish mane decisively and thumped Bobby on the shoulder with her muzzle.

"What is it, girl?" he asked, and the unicorn replied in excited babble while grabbing a horn on his helmet and tugging him forward. "Hey, I think she wants us to follow her!"

"Of course!" Varla said. "This illusion is meant for human eyes, not the eyes of a unicorn. She can probably see clearly."

"Okay, so I'll grab Uni, and everybody form a chain," Bobby said.

"Be sure to step only where everyone before you has," Varla warned them. "We have no idea what she's leading us past."

They linked hands, one behind the next like a game of Crack the Whip with the unicorn at the head. Bobby held on to her neck, and his hand reached back to Terry, who in turn held Sheila's hand, who was linked to Hank, then Varla, Presto, Diana, Eric, and finally Venger bringing up the rear once more.

"Geez, your hands are cold!" Eric yelped, grasping Venger's fingers. "We're in the middle of the desert, for crying out loud! Don't you have any circulation?"

"No," Venger said.

"Oh," Eric said, feeling a chill go down his own spine. "Yeah, that's not disturbing at all."

They started off slowly, Uni picking her way carefully forward, and the rest of them following in her wake, trying to tread in one another's footsteps. This wasn't as easy as it sounded since the unicorn was taking quite a circuitous path, and at different times each of them thought they were about to smash right into solid rock only to pass through it like mist. Finally, a darkness descended over all of them, so thick that no one could see at all. The only reality left was following, one foot after the other, and the hands of the people next to them.

Suddenly, after a quarter of an hour of darkness, Diana lost her footing and seemed to be falling off something, and Eric and Presto only just managed to pull her back onto the path before her hand slipped from theirs.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked.

"No," Diana said, favoring one foot. "I think I sprained my ankle."

She tried taking another step on it only to yelp in pain, her hand squeezing Eric's so tightly that he was sure she was worried about falling again.

"What about Terry's net?" Presto asked, calling down the line. "That should fix it!"

"It's too risky," Hank said. "We'd all have to pass it back, and I don't think we should break hand contact that long."

"Besides, it only works when someone's sitting or lying down," Terry said, sounding worried. "I don't think it's safe to sit there."

"Okay, then we go with plan B," Eric said, carefully scooting closer to Diana.

"And what would plan B be?" Diana asked.

"Piggy back ride," Eric said, trying to sound flippant even though he was frankly terrified at how close he must be to the edge of something. "Just get your hands around my neck."

"Are you out of your mind?" she yelled.

"Probably," he said, "but you can't walk, and we're not leaving you here. The only other option is for someone to carry you, and it needs to be whoever's closest, which is either me or Presto. So unless you want Merlin's pointy hat sticking you in the eye, it looks like I'm your noble steed."

He didn't want to say it out loud, but the truth was he was also pretty sure he was stronger than Presto, too, but there was no reason to rub it in. Well, not right now at least.

"Eric, are you sure about this?" Hank called back to them.

"Yeah, as long as Diana's game, so am I," he said, trying to sound a lot braver than he felt at that moment. He passed his shield back to Venger, who still had a free hand. Eric shivered. He really, really hated heights.

"Okay," Diana said, her tone more than a little uncertain. "Presto, try to keep hold on my javelin. We don't want to get separated."

"Right," he said, and there were some fumbling noises.

"Presto, that's the clasp on my top," Diana said through what sounded like gritted teeth.

"Sorry!" he yelped as though he'd been burned. "Okay, I think I've got it now."

Eric felt her let go of his hand and carefully edge her way behind him, pressing as close to him as possible. As her hands skittered over his back in the dark and he could feel the heat of her body through his armor, he kept mentally repeating to himself, "I'm holding Venger's hand, I'm holding Venger's hand, I'm holding Venger's hand," to keep from getting too distracted.

"Ready?" she asked him, her mouth very close behind his right ear.

"Yeah," he said, his voice cracking a little. "Hold tight."

He bent and grasped her behind one knee as he felt her arms go around his neck. It was tricky, what with the end of her javelin between them in the back and Venger still connected to his left hand, but he managed to help her hoist herself into a fair imitation of a piggy back. She had to cross her ankles in front of him since he couldn't keep holding onto her legs, though, which was just all kinds of awkward. Carefully, he took hold of the javelin with his right hand and followed its length back to Presto, who was still holding the other end.

"Gotcha!" he said, grabbing Presto's hand as Diana removed the javelin and turned it back into something the size of a pencil. "You okay back there?"

"I think so," she said.

"Fine, then let's keep moving," Hank said, and they continued along the path, weaving back and forth erratically.

Eric was, in all honesty, not the most comfortable he'd ever been in his life, but he tried not to show it for Diana's sake. He had to admit, though, that it wasn't any hardship to feel her this close to him. Granted, they might fall to their deaths at any moment, but still, there were worse ways to go.

All at once, it was as though someone had flipped a switch. The cavern where they now stood was flooded with reddish light, and they could finally see where they had been. Behind them, stretching off into the distance, was a thin, suspended ribbon of stone looped crazily back and forth like a roller coaster without any visible means of support. In places, it had been no more than a foot's breadth wide, and beneath it was a fiery abyss so deep that no bottom was visible. They had finally been able to see it when Venger's foot had reached solid ground, the very last of them to leave the path behind.

"We just walked over that?" Bobby asked, his eyes starting out of his head. "Oh, man, am I ever glad I couldn't see that before!"

Eric felt a little woozy himself.

"We're safe now," Hank said, though even the Ranger's voice sounded a little stunned. "Terry, how's about that net?"

The girl nodded, her gaze transfixed by the dangerous road they'd taken, but she pulled the net from her bag and started towards Diana, but not before nearly yanking Bobby's arm out of its socket since she'd forgotten to let go of his hand.

Eric carefully set her down, letting her use him to steady herself as she sat on the stone floor of the cave. Terry's net worked almost at once, and Diana, after testing her strength a bit, declared herself good as new, and the group moved on.

"Thanks," she said to Eric quietly. "I really owe you one."

"No big deal," he said, ducking his head awkwardly.

However, when she kissed him on the cheek and then moved back towards Sheila and Hank, Eric decided it was actually a very big deal indeed.

"Hey!" Presto said, spinning around to look back at the path. "I just realized something! That was the Plains of Fire!"

"I'm so glad we know that, Presto," Eric said. "I feel very enlightened. What does that even mean?"

"The wizard is right," Venger said, looking behind them. "That was the first test of the Underworld on the way to the Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn."

"You mean the ledge where you got stuck last time, Presto?" Sheila asked.

"Yeah, the one that was crumbling to pieces when Dungeon Master teleported me out of there. It's the same abyss, I'm sure of it, so that must be all that's left of that whole cliff," Presto said.

"So one down and a bunch more to go," Sheila said, sounding less than enthusiastic. "I sure hope we don't find out anything else has gotten more interesting around here."

"Looks like we're about to find out," Hank said as they approached a river of molten fire. "Isn't this where the Salamanders attacked us last time?"

"That was my doing," Venger said. "I was the one who called them forward. Provided none of us touches that pillar, they should remain beneath the surface."

"You sent the Salamanders after us?" Bobby asked.

"Yes," Venger admitted.

"Eric, you so owe me ten bucks!" Bobby said. "I told you that was Venger!"

"I have no memory of a bet ever formally being made," Eric said, putting his nose in the air as he strode past. "Did you happen to get it in writing?"

"Aww, come on!" Bobby said, trailing after him. "Fair's fair!"

Venger looked at Sheila and couldn't help giving a small smile.

"Are they always like this?" he asked.

"Usually," Sheila said, watching her little brother with an amused grin. "Sometimes it's worse."

"I'm surprised there wasn't a murder in your group within a year of your arrival," he said.

"Try a week," Presto agreed, but he was laughing.


	9. Chapter 9: If It Worked for Cadmus

For notes, see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"I'm Still Standing" – Elton John

"Private Eyes" – Hall and Oates

"Cecilia" – Simon and Garfunkle

Chapter 9: If It Worked for Cadmus…

They walked along the banks of the fiery river until it ended at the door to the deep, circular stairwell that led to the gold mines where Venger had once used dark dwarfs as forced labor. The steps, however, were still smashed to pieces from their last visit here, and unfortunately the Guardian, a massive purple Worm who had done the smashing, was undoubtedly still waiting at the bottom.

"Okay, guys, any ideas on how to handle this one?" Hank asked, looking cautiously into the darkness below. "My energy bow didn't even phase that thing last time."

"Yeah, and my shield went kaput just before Dungeon Master got me out of here," Eric said, "so I'm no good either."

"And the stairs are already pretty wrecked, so my club is out," Bobby said.

"I think what we have is two different problems," Diana said, sizing up the remains of the stairs. "First, there's the Guardian, but second, even if we get him out of the way, too many steps are missing for us to go down."

"Wait," Sheila said, her eyes lighting up with an idea. "Varla, do you think you could manage to cover all of us with a veil strong enough to fool the Guardian and a whole bunch of Salamanders?"

"Perhaps," she said, closing her eyes in concentration. "I can see them. I think I should be able to keep up a veil for a short time, but nothing longer than a minute or two at the most."

"That's all we'll need," Sheila said. "Venger, how do you get those things out of the river again?"

"Any touch on the pillar will awake the Salamanders," he said, "even if it is only a stone thrown from afar."

"Great," Diana said, giving Sheila a look of comprehension. "So all we have to do is get them to take out the Guardian for us while we're hidden under Varla's veil!"

"Okay, but how do we get down the stairs?" Terry asked.

"Presto, do you think you can conjure something for us that'll get us down to the next level in a hurry?" Hank asked.

"I think so," he said uncertainly, taking off his hat.

"Alright," Hank said, "this had better work or we're really in trouble. Diana, can you hit that pillar with your javelin?"

"No problem, and I can catch it on the rebound," she said, "but I need to get a little closer. You guys stay here and I'll make sure they have something to chase that'll lead them to the Guardian."

"Okay," Bobby said. "I'll take care of getting the Guardian up here with my club."

"Whenever you're ready, Varla," Hank said.

Varla looked apologetically at Presto and said, "I'm sorry, but these are rather painful for me even now. You'll probably still feel something as well."

"Right," he said, looking even more nervous. "No pressure. Just pull something out of my hat to get us downstairs while avoiding the Guardian and the Salamanders and ignoring the brain searing agony. What could possibly go wrong?"

"You did not just say that," Eric said, giving him a jittery look.

But it was too late to stop now. Diana had already started back towards the pillar, and Bobby had tapped his club lightly against the dirt floor so that it glowed with power.

"What's the signal for us to start?" Bobby asked.

At that moment, a very loud ping rang through the cavern, immediately followed by the sounds of growling, furious hissing, and running feet.

"Uh… that?" Presto said, shrugging.

Bobby immediately thumped his club against the wall of the stairwell, creating a small rock slide. At once another round of growling and hissing emerged, this time out of the darkness below them and growing nearer every moment.

"Cluster as close together as you can," Varla said, "here, just to the side of the door so we'll be out of the way."

They pressed together tightly, forming a dense group with Varla at its center, and when Diana rounded the corner, still running hard, she caught sight of them.

"They're right behind me!" she yelled, and Eric grabbed her arm to pull her against the rest of them.

No sooner did she take her spot then Varla uttered a loud cry that could almost have been missed in the din from the approaching Salamanders and the equally incensed Guardian. A split second later, it was followed by a twin scream from Presto. Both of them were shaking so hard from the suppressed agony that the whole group could literally feel it from how near they stood to each other. However, the moment Eric tried to find one of them to clamp his hand over their mouths so they'd stay quiet, he realized he couldn't see anyone. All of them were completely invisible, even to one another.

The screams had died away, and the Salamanders rushed past them, pouring into the open doorway and from the sound of it attacking the enraged Guardian instead of Diana. Repeated deep-throated shrieks suggested the Guardian wasn't necessarily getting the best of it, either. A particularly loud and echoing bellow was followed by the sound of tons of rubble sliding down the walls, and then an equally loud silence. Moments later, the Salamanders reappeared, looking triumphant, and passed right by them again, returning to their river of fire.

"Do you think they killed it?" Sheila asked.

"I doubt it, but I'd guess it isn't up for another fight again, and even if it is our weapons might be able to handle it now," Hank said. "Presto? You ready?"

"I think so," he panted, but Eric realized he sounded frighteningly weak. "Come on hat, don't make me frown, and give us a way for us to get down."

Eric silently thought that if the hat provided a disco ball and a single of "Do the Hustle," he was going to strangle Presto, but for once he kept his mouth shut. As the group flickered back into visibility, Presto groaned.

"What is it this time?" Bobby asked unenthusiastically.

"Just a stupid box with a button on it," Presto said, looking at it sadly, and Eric realized Presto was pale as chalk. "What good is that?"

Angrily, he threw the box to the ground, which accidentally pressed the button.

A loud ding along with the sound of opening doors came from the other side of the doorway . The group looked at each other in disbelief.

"Is it me or did that sound like…?" Presto asked.

"An elevator!" Bobby shouted. "Hurry up before it leaves without us!"

The door to the stairwell now opened into a fairly large elevator. Presto was half-carried into it by both Eric and Diana while Varla, who looked at least as badly off, was supported by Hank and Sheila. Once they were all inside-even Venger, who looked deeply perplexed-Eric realized the thing came complete with buttons labeled "River of Fire," "Gold Mine," and, most enticingly, "Ground Floor."

"I do not understand," Venger said. "What is this metal box?"

When the doors shut and they started descending, he nearly turned the same ashen-color as his former self.

"We're falling!" he yelled, clambering to open the doors.

"No, we're just going down to the next level. This is a machine from our world," Diana said. "Seriously, just relax."

Venger still looked rather wild-eyed, but he stopped trying to pry the doors open with his hunting knife. Eric rolled his eyes as he realized that a flute-and-tuba-heavy version of "Cecilia" was being piped into the elevator.

"Muzak, Presto?" he said, trying to draw a smile out of the exhausted teenager who had his left arm slung around Eric's neck. "Seriously?"

But there wasn't any response, and Presto sank heavily to his knees, as did Varla.

"Terry!" Diana called, but the girl was already standing beside Presto, net in hand.

"Here," she said, carefully draping it over him, "hang on a few seconds and you should be okay."

But nothing happened aside from Presto muttering weakly, "Varla first."

"Why isn't it working?" Eric said, sounding genuinely frightened as Terry tried the net on Varla in turn with no success either.

"I don't know," Terry said, holding it up and staring at it by the light of the florescent lights. "It still feels like it has power running through it, but it's not doing anything."

"Maybe it's broken?" Sheila suggested. "I got a small cut on my leg out there, nothing worth mentioning, but if it won't heal that then we know it isn't working."

Terry wrapped the net around the little abrasion, and it immediately disappeared.

"So, what, it'll work on sunburns, sprains, and small cuts but it doesn't do anything at all for whatever this is?" Eric said, raising his voice angrily. "What did Tiamat give you, magical Bactine?"

"No," Venger said, kneeling to examine the two magicians. "They are not injured."

"They're lying on the ground looking like death warmed over," Diana said, putting a hand on her hip. "I'd call that plenty 'injured.'"

"They are suffering from exhaustion," Venger said. "That is not truly an injury. Their strength has been depleted."

"But why is it so bad?" Sheila asked. "I mean, when you were holding Varla prisoner, she did a lot more than just conceal a group of people for a few minutes, and yeah, she got weak, but nothing like this."

"It must be an effect of the Underworld," Venger said.

"And you didn't tell us about this before why again?" Eric said, getting really upset.

"The Underworld is very unstable," Venger said just as the elevator dinged once more and the doors opened. "It is a mystery even to me."

Silently, they carried Presto and Varla out of the elevator, and the doors shut behind them. However, the elevator remained in existence, and considering how long it had taken them to reach this level, Eric was glad they might have an easy ticket back out of here. Unfortunately, that happy thought ran away as soon as he looked at Varla and Presto, both of whom seemed to be getting worse, not better.

"Okay," he said, his voice completely serious. "We really need to do something for them, the sooner the better."

"That place where Dungeon Master got better after he teleported us away from the One Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken might help," Bobby suggested, his face drawn with worry.

"Bobby's right," Hank said. "The Well of Power is probably their best bet. We need to get there, pronto."

"It is not far now," Venger said, "and the Well is also where the Crystal of the Two Suns is kept."

"So it's on our way," Eric said, trying to sound like his normal self but failing. "Good."

Uni tugged at Bobby's wrist and motioned with her head at the two prostrate, practically unconscious humans.

"I don't think they can stay on your back, Uni," Bobby said, "but thanks for offering."

However, Uni became even more insistent, almost panicked.

"Something isn't right," Hank said, looking around cautiously, "and I think Uni might know something we don't. Eric, let's try to lift them onto her back."

"You're the boss," Eric said, for once without any spite in it, and they managed to get Varla onto Uni's back with her arms loosely draped around her neck. It took a little more doing to get Presto behind her (and it was a mark of how grave the situation was that Eric never even considered making a crack about him eating too much), but once he was seated, his arms automatically went around Varla.

"You'll be careful with them, right Uni?" Hank asked.

The unicorn managed an almost intelligible "Yeaaah," in response.

"Course she will," Bobby said, stroking her forelock.

"And I'm starting to understand why she didn't want us carrying them," Diana said, her javelin glimmering as it extended. "We're going to have our hands full as it is."

Eric looked up and realized she was right. At least thirty dark dwarves were approaching them, and they really didn't look happy.


	10. Chapter 10: Sick at Heart

For notes, please see chapter one.

Suggested music:

"Finale" – _Dark Crystal_ soundtrack

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" – Bonnie Tyler

"In the Sea" - America

Chapter 10: Sick at Heart

"Ughar," Venger said, his voice now deeper than it had been. "I see you remember your master. Give way before I smite you."

"You are master here no more," said one of the dwarves, who seemed to be in charge. "Even in the Underworld we have heard of your fall, and we have hoped for a chance at vengeance."

"We don't want any trouble," Hank said. "If Venger did something terrible to you…"

"…which he probably did," Eric muttered.

"…we're sorry, but you're free now, and we've got sick friends we need to get to the well. Can you just please let us pass?" he asked.

Ughar looked at him with disgust.

"No," he said. "The dark dwarves do not forget! We will have our revenge, and any who travel by the side of Venger are our enemies as well."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Eric said, holding his shield higher. "We're defending Venger from the Lollipop Guild?"

"Looks like," Hank said, and the fight began again.

The elves wore horned helmets that looked much like Bobby's but they had the ability to channel magic between the horns and shoot it at their enemies. For such small creatures, they packed a truly heavy wallop, and Bobby's club was smoking in mere moments while Eric barely managed to keep the unicorn and his semi-conscious friends covered with his shield.

"Uni," he shouted to her, "I can't keep this up! You'd better run for it!"

The unicorn whickered agreement and took off at surprising speed over the rocky ground, heading towards a light in the distance.

"I hope she doesn't drop them," he said mostly to himself as he ran back into battle.

Diana was fending off the dwarves pretty well with her javelin until one of them managed to hit it with a direct shot from its horns and shattered it in two. Hank's energy bow was firing rapidly, but the dwarfs seemed almost completely immune to its effects. In fact, Eric was almost sure he saw at least two of them catch a bolt between their horns and rocket it back at them.

Sheila, however, was having much better luck. Protected by her cloak, she deftly stole three helmets from their owners' heads before they had any idea she was there. She tossed one to Diana and the other to Venger, and the third sailed through the air to Bobby, who caught it with ease. Apparently the helmets could be used by anyone, even humans, and Diana found herself laughing as she aimed the horns towards the dwarfs and they scampered away. Even Venger found this did not fall under the ban that kept him from using magic, and he rather gleefully shot at Ughar. In another few minutes, Sheila had successfully stolen every last helmet from the dwarfs, who turned tail and ran.

"This is not the end of our war!" Ughar yelled as he followed his people into the darkness. "We shall return!"

"Whatever, MacArthur," Eric said, wiping the grime off his shield.

"Nice job, Sheila," Hank said, giving her a warm smile that lasted perhaps a second longer than strictly necessary. "Let's get to that well before they come back with reinforcements."

"MacArthur?" Diana asked as she ran beside Eric on their way to the well.

"I paid attention in history once," he said. "I got so bored I actually listened to the teacher."

"Full circle boredom," Diana said, grinning. "Nice."

However, when they reached the cave where the Well of Power and the Crystal of the Two Suns were, they stopped smiling. Uni was splayed across the ground. Apparently she'd taken a hit from one of the dwarfs, but she'd still managed to get Presto and Varla to their destination. The two magicians were tumbled on the ground, even paler than before and completely insensible. They hadn't been able to drag themselves into the well.

"What are you standing around for!" Eric yelled at the dumbstruck group. "Move!"

He grabbed Presto and hauled him bodily to the well while Hank took Varla.

"This had better work," Eric said as he dumped Presto unceremoniously into the churning white water.

Hank made no response as he grimly added Varla to the well. No sooner did she disappear below the surface than a bright, pulsing light emanated from the well, filling the cavern. A hand broke through the waves, and Hank grabbed it, helping Presto pull himself from the water. His other hand was clinging to Varla's, and she too emerged looking well again. Between their joined hands was a crystal.

"Is that…?" Eric asked.

"The Crystal of the Two Suns," Varla assured him. "We have it at last!"

"Then let's get out of here," he said.

"Wait," Sheila said. "What about Uni?"

Eric had completely forgotten about the unicorn, and apparently he wasn't the only one. He turned to see Bobby and Terry were standing by her, trying desperately to lift her. Bobby was crying openly. Uni wasn't moving at all.

"The net didn't work," Terry said, near sobbing herself as the rest of them crowded around, trying to help. "She's hurt too bad."

"We gotta get her in the well," Bobby said, cradling the unicorn's head. "Maybe that'll work."

"Okay, Bobby," Hank said gently, shouldering most of her weight. "Okay, we've got her. We'll put her in."

Eric, Presto, Diana, Sheila, Hank, and even Venger took hold of Uni and carried her to the well, lowering her in. They waited, watching the waters churning, but then they slowly became still, and their light dimmed. When the well became as still as a pond, the group looked at one another in utter horror.

"Uni?" Bobby asked, his voice cracking. "Uni!"

Before anyone could stop him, he plunged into the water after her, searching for her, but there was no body to be found. By the time he broke the surface of the water, he was screaming.

"She's not here! She's gone! They… they killed her!" Bobby yelled, almost incoherent with grief.

Silently, Hank lifted him out of the water, and he collapsed on the ground, shaking with sobs.

"I'm so sorry, Bobby," Sheila said, kneeling beside him, tears streaming down her face as well.

But there was nothing anyone could do.

"We have to leave," Hank said, grimacing. "Those dark dwarfs could be back any second."

Eric was never sure how they managed to get Bobby out of the Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn, and he didn't really want to know. In spite of what he always said, he'd been very fond of the unicorn too, and there was obviously something in his eye when they returned to the elevator. They crowded inside, and Presto hit the button marked "Ground Floor." The ride up was silent save for the sounds of Bobby crying; even the horrible elevator music had disappeared.

When the doors opened once again, they were facing a green pasture. Bobby stumbled outside and sat on a rock in the middle of a clump of little blue wildflowers. After a few minutes, Eric awkwardly approached him.

"I… uh, I want to say I'm sorry," Eric said.

Bobby just looked up at him.

"I know that, uh, that is to say, if I hadn't told Uni to take Presto and Varla to the well, or if I'd gone with her and used my shield as cover, I mean," Eric said, stumbling over his words and feeling completely miserable. "I just… I never wanted her to get hurt, Bobby. Really. I'm sorry."

"You were the one who told her to go?" Bobby asked, and his jaw clenched.

"Yes," Eric admitted, hanging his head. "It's my fault."

It took less than a blink for Bobby to be on his feet, pounding his fists against the armor on Eric's chest until his fingers were bruised, screaming at him and kicking his shins with as much force as he could muster. Eric stood perfectly still, not defending himself at all, looking as though he barely felt the attack.

"Bobby, that's enough!" Hank said, dragging the boy off the Cavalier, and Bobby turned into his arms and started to cry afresh before stumbling off to be by himself under a tree a little way off.

Sheila went to follow him, but Terry stopped her.

"No," she said, glancing back at him. "He needs to be alone. He'll let us know when he's ready."

Eric was still standing exactly where he had been, head down, eyes shut. He didn't even hear Diana approach.

"It's not, you know," Diana said.

"Not what?" Eric asked, and it seemed like just talking took too much effort.

"Your fault," Diana said, putting her hand under his chin to get him to look at her. "You didn't kill Uni. The dark dwarfs did."

"And I was the one who put her into danger," Eric said, glaring at her defiantly. "It was me who did that."

"If you hadn't, Presto and Varla might be the ones dead right now," Diana said. "We needed you in the fight, and Uni did what she needed to do to keep everybody safe."

"Yeah," Eric said hopelessly, glancing towards the tree and the indistinct shape of the kid underneath it. "Tell that to Bobby."


	11. Chapter 11: Nightfall

For notes, please see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"Sweet Dreams Are Made of This" – Eurythmics

"Every Breath You Take" – The Police

"Eye in the Sky" – Alan Parsons Project

Chapter 11: Nightfall

The night had passed while they were in the Underworld, and bright daylight was around them. While they realized Bobby needed time to grieve, that in fact they all did, that time couldn't be now. After about an hour, Hank went out to the tree to talk to Bobby, and no one envied him the task. Eric had no idea what he said, but not long after the two of them rejoined the group, Hank keeping his arm protectively around Bobby's shoulders in exactly the same way Hank's father had when he'd taken him from the hospital the day they were rescued from the collapsed ride.

"We need to move on," Hank said. "How do we get to the edge of the west, Venger?"

"Your device did not merely return us to the surface," Venger said. "It took us to the very edge of the darkened Realm. On the other side of those trees, you will find the land of the Shadow Demon's power."

"Then that's where we're going," Bobby said, his voice shaky but determined.

"Right," Hank said.

The group began the next phase of their journey, continuing onwards, and the moment they went beyond the trees in the meadow, the shadows became somehow deeper. It was the same feeling they had experienced near Varla's old village. The air seemed too thick, and the further they pressed into the shadows, the more oppressive the feeling became.

"And this is what it's like in daylight," Presto said. "Imagine what's going to happen when the sun goes down."

"I'd rather not," Sheila said, watching every bush and tree with care.

But the sun didn't stop in its path, and true darkness did begin to fall. As it did, the fatigue of being up for better than a day and a half without sleep hit all of them like a small mountain.

"Hank," Sheila said somewhat timidly, "I know we need to keep going, but if we don't get some sleep soon, we're going to fall over."

"I know," Hank agreed, "but somebody's going to have to keep watch."

"I'll take the first one," Eric offered. It was the first thing he'd said since he'd spoken to Diana, and the words were still lifeless.

"Fine," Hank said, "I'll take the second."

"I shall take the third," Venger offered. "We can keep traveling after that."

Most of them were asleep no sooner than they had laid down, and Eric was left alone with his dismal thoughts. The noises of the Realm at night were far from comforting, and he kept his shield at the ready. By the time Hank tapped his arm to tell him his shift was over, Eric was so exhausted that even with all the guilt he felt, he was able to sleep dreamlessly.

Terry, however, was not so lucky, which meant neither were the rest of them. Around 2:00, she suddenly screamed, loud and long, and everyone was awake in an instant.

"What did you dream?" Hank asked, and the abruptness of the question was enough of a clue to how harried the Ranger was.

"There was a-a fortress," Terry said haltingly. "It had four towers, and it was made of black stone, perfectly smooth, and we were rushing towards it. Something was carrying us. I couldn't see what because it was too dark."

"And then?" Bobby asked, moving closer to her.

"And then a shadow came at us," she said, shuddering. "It was enormous, with two white eyes that seemed to look right through me."

"The Shadow Demon," Venger said. "What then?"

"I don't know," Terry said, shaking her head. "It didn't make any sense. There was a big wind and a lot of yelling, and then I thought I saw light in a lot of different colors, but the shadow was was hanging over me and… and then I woke up."

"Do you think it was another dream about the future or just a nightmare?" Hank said.

"I don't know," Terry said, still panting. "I haven't seen anything in my dreams this time in the Realm until now."

"It was," Venger said with utter certainty. "I know that place. She has described precisely the Obsidian Fortress. We now know the exact location of our enemy."

"And we now know yours," said an unfamiliar voice from above their heads.

Their weapons were in their hands again at once, but it was far too late. In an instant, they were completely surrounded, but Eric couldn't say by what exactly. The only thing he knew for certain was they had blank, white eyes that gave him shudders. When he tried to use his shield against the creatures, they seemed just to disappear, and when Hank tried to use his energy bow, the light from it evaporated. All he knew for sure was they were strong, there were a whole lot of them, and they were knocking him off his feet.

Judging by the noise around him, Eric realized he wasn't the only one getting the worst of the battle. He heard Sheila scream and Bobby yelling, "Get away from my sister, you jerk!" but he couldn't see anything. Eventually, he realized he'd been stuffed inside some kind of bag, and judging by the movement around him, whatever had him was carrying him over the ground very fast. Muffled shouts told him that the rest of the group had probably suffered the same fate.

However, he still had his shield. He couldn't help thinking that was strange. Why wouldn't they disarm him? Eric decided not to question good luck and instead tried to use the shield's pointed end to cut a hole in the sack. Nothing happened. He tried again, bringing the full force of the shield against the material of the bag, and again, nothing happened.

"Quit struggling," said a colorless voice that belonged to whatever was carrying his bag. "These are enchanted against all magic. You are helpless."

Eric knitted his brows together, absolutely certain there had to be something he could do. The sacks might be impervious to magic, but what about plain old common sense?"

Carefully, he twisted himself around until he could reach the top of the bag, and he worked his fingers gingerly, trying to find the string that held the sack shut. It hadn't been tied very well, and after years of deftly sneaking into his father's pockets to extract cash while he was passed out on the couch, it wasn't long before Eric had undone the sloppy knot. Hoping it was still dark enough to conceal him if he snuck a quick peek at where they were going and who was carrying them, Eric barely poked his head out of the top of the bag.

What he saw was not reassuring. A whole group about a hundred beings that seemed to be made of nothing but solidified darkness were racing across the ground, and a few of them were indeed carrying sacks much like the one Eric was currently in. They didn't seem to notice him, so he chanced turning around to see where they were headed. Sure enough, exactly as in Terry's dream, a fortress of black stone, its four towers barely visible against the darkness of the night sky, lay ahead of them. Venger had possessed some truly terrifying hideouts, and while this place wasn't in the same league as the Prison of Agony, something about it reeked of Bad News. Eric gulped and ducked back down into his sack before any of the things saw him.

If Terry's dream held true, and she seemed to be batting a thousand, then the Shadow Demon was in that fortress, and it obviously wanted them alive and with their weapons intact. Maybe it didn't trust the other shadows working for it? As clues went, it wasn't much, but Eric would cling to whatever he could at the moment.

The footfalls started to sound hollow, as though the beings were running over a bridge (and that meant they had feet, Eric thought, as well as some kind of weight), and then, abruptly, they stopped. Eric's sack was thrown none-too-gently onto a stone floor.

"Ow!" he yelled. "I'm pretty sure this is a clear violation of the Geneva Convention and the Treaty of Versailles and the Declaration of Independence and the Magna Carta and a bunch of other stuff I never paid attention to in school!"

A swift kick from one of the creatures sent the bag skittering across the floor, plowing into something soft. The tone of the resulting groan made Eric realize he'd wound up right next to Terry's bag.

"Terry? You okay, kiddo?" he whispered, honestly concerned.

"I think so," she murmured back. "Do you know where the others are?"

"I'm not sure, but I think we were all brought in at the same time," Eric said, wondering if he dared crawl out of his sack. It didn't sound like any of the beings were close by. "Hang on a sec. I think I can get free."

Eric checked that the coast was clear and then wriggled through the bag's opening. They were stashed in a large, empty room that was made of the same black stone as the outside of the fortress. None of the creatures were visible, but Eric wasn't sure that meant anything. He did a quick count and realized with relief that apparently all nine of them were in the same place, but the sacks were scattered all over the room as though they'd been dropped haphazardly in a hurry.

"Eric?" Terry called quietly. "Are you there?"

"Yeah," he said, starting to work the strings on her bag. "Almost got it… there!"

Terry emerged looking frightened and a little rough around the edges, but still in pretty good shape. She had the net with her as well.

"See if you can get some of the others out," he said, turning to another nearby bag, worried that he didn't hear anyone else talking.

The next nearest sack was significantly larger, and it was no surprise when Venger's head emerged from its opening.

"They took my knife," he said, and what scared Eric worse than anything else tonight was seeing fear on Venger's face. "We're in the Obsidian Fortress?"

"I don't know, but the name sure fits," Eric said, moving to the next bag and glancing up to see that Terry had freed Sheila, who looked to be okay if rather shell shocked. "Make like it's Christmas and start opening the bags, will you?"

"Yes," Venger said, shaking his head as though to rouse himself. "That would be wise."

As Eric started on the next bag, which turned out to be Presto, he realized that so far the only weapon that had been taken from them was a completely ordinary knife. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he kept his shield close.

"Thanks," Presto said, sitting up stiffly. "I tried to use my hat in there, but nothing happened."

"Whatever the bags are made of deflects magic," Eric said, already working on the next bag. "Try again."

Venger had produced Hank, and Terry had found Varla and Bobby, so that meant this bag had to be Diana. Eric's heart stopped when he noticed how perfectly still it was. He realized why when a javelin nearly struck him in the face when he opened the sack.

"Geez, Diana!" Eric said, still keeping his voice low. "You could take somebody's eye out with that thing."

"That was the general idea. I didn't know it was you," she said, leaping from the sack.

Terry's net was making its rounds through the group quickly, healing minor injuries as well as what was probably a fractured wrist for Bobby, when suddenly the temperature of the room dropped.

"What's happening?" Sheila asked, her hair blowing wildly around her face. "It's like someone opened the door during a hurricane!"

Eric had never been near a hurricane, but he guessed it was probably a good bet that Sheila was right. Turning around, he saw that the entire wall behind them had disappeared and now opened into a vast, black nothingness. The wind didn't come from it but blew towards it, and slowly they were being drawn towards the emptiness.

"Everybody, draw your weapons!" Hank called over the windstorm.

The dim glow they emitted did little to combat the darkness, but at least they knew they weren't alone. Eric moved forward beside Hank, the others following to form a wall, shoulder to shoulder against whatever was about to come at them out of the darkness. He couldn't help thinking that if he had to go, that being surrounded by friends wouldn't be the worst way. However, he had absolutely no intention of losing this battle or of letting anyone else on his side lose it either.


	12. Chapter 12: The Shadow Strikes

For notes, see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"Eyes without a Face" – Billy Idol

"Screaming in the Night" - Krokus

"I Want to Know What Love Is" – Foreigner

Chapter 12: The Shadow Strikes

When the two enormous white eyes opened in the darkness, Eric managed not to give a petrified yelp, but it was a near miss.

"Welcome, my old master," said a voice that sounded both oily and menacing. "I am so happy you have decided to visit my humble abode."

"Shadow Demon," Venger said, summoning a voice much more like his old one than anything they had heard on this trip, even with Ughar, "I command you to let us go, return my father to me, and leave this world."

"No," the voice responded, and a huge shadow, much larger than it had been when it worked for Venger, disengaged itself from the darkness and came towards them. "Is that not a lovely sounding word? No. I was never permitted to say it to you before, but I have the chance now."

"Leave us in peace," Hank said, his tone one of cold command. "That isn't a request either."

"It is not?" Shadow Demon said, sounding amused. "I believe I shall enjoy making you beg for your life, Ranger."

A loud thump resounded from the other end of the line of warriors, and Bobby called out, "We don't beg, you freak!"

The next moment, the club hit the floor again with even greater force, and Eric expected half the fortress to cave in around them, but it did almost nothing except send a few small flakes of stone falling from the ceiling to the ground.

"This far into shadow, Barbarian, your weapons are not what they once were," the Shadow Demon said, laughing low.

"Oh yeah?" Hank said, drawing his energy bow.

A single bolt flashed through the air, and for a moment Eric thought it might do something, but the Shadow Demon merely waved it away.

"That doesn't make sense," Diana said at Eric's elbow.

"What doesn't? Eric asked.

"A shadow is just the absence of light," Diana said, staring at Shadow Demon. "If you put light against a shadow, it just dissolves. Hank's energy bow is basically light, so why didn't it shoot a hole in Shadow Demon?"

"It is not that kind of a shadow," Venger said, staring at it bleakly.

"Really?" Eric said, deciding this was getting them nowhere. "Okay. Hey, Shadow Demon! Exactly what kind of a shadow are you? We've just been discussing it and can't figure it out. Personally, I'm guessing you're made of dryer lint. How close am I?"

"I am made of the darkness of the human heart," Shadow Demon said, its voice becoming a sibilant hiss that raised goose bumps on Eric's arms. "I am the hopelessness that comes when the soul is sick with grief. I am the thoughts that bend humans towards destruction even though they know they will only destroy themselves. I am the heart that has turned from light and gone cold as the black stone of which this fortress is built. I am the ultimate despair that makes beings of all worlds grind their teeth in endless regret and horror."

"So… not dryer lint then," Eric said, trying to act nonchalant even though he was terrified. "My mistake."

"And if that's all true, why exactly haven't you killed us already?" Diana asked, sounding fierce.

"In good time," it said. "I want those weapons of yours, but it is of no use to me to take them from you unless I win them fairly. I shall challenge you each in turn, and once I have vanquished you, then I shall kill you."

"What if we don't want to play?" Sheila said, thrusting her chin out boldly.

"Then I shall find ways of motivating you," it said, coming closer.

Presto had been carefully putting his hand into hat as the others spoke, keeping the Shadow Demon occupied, and he suddenly pulled out the Crystal of the Two Suns.

"Take that!" he said, and a beam of white light shot from the heart of the crystal at the demon, making it shriek in protest.

But it kept coming slowly forward.

Presto stared at the crystal, thumped it a few times on his hand, and tried again.

"Foolish Magician," the Shadow Demon said. "Did you not hear what I said? Simple light, even that of the two suns, is not enough to undo me anymore. It may wound me a little, but it will not stop me."

Eric was suddenly aware of a reddish glow coming from his right. Glancing over, he saw that Sheila's hand was its source. She had noticed it at exactly the same moment and realized what it was.

"The Ring of Heart?" she said, holding it up to look at it but still confused. "But… what? What's it doing?"

The glow became gradually brighter the closer Shadow Demon came to her, but once its dim light actually fell on the creature, it turned back with a sudden cry.

"That's it!" Hank yelled. "The Shadow Demon is just what it said; it's made up of the absence of hope, the absence of heart."

"And the ring is the opposite of that," Sheila said, almost as though she were thinking aloud, but the ring's light started to sputter, "and it looks like it's running out of gas!"

"Get away from her!" Bobby said threateningly, breaking from his place in line to stand in front of his sister, anger blazing from his eyes as he held his club aloft, even knowing that it was useless.

And suddenly, the ring blazed brightly again.

"It's feeding off our emotions!" Sheila called to them.

"The light that can dispel the Shadow Demon isn't a literal light… it's the light inside us!" Presto said. "The only thing that can dispel that kind of shadow is, well, heart!"

"Oh great, I've walked into the middle of a Hallmark card commercial," Eric said, sighing dramatically.

Presto was standing near Sheila already, and Varla joined him, taking his hand.

"I've loved you since the first moment I saw you in the swamp years ago," Presto said. "I can't explain it. I just do."

"And I have loved you for as long," she said, kissing him gently.

The intensity of the ring's light tripled, making the Shadow Demon screech in pain and back further along the floor.

"Well, that oughta do it," Eric said, leaning on his shield.

But he was wrong. The Shadow Demon began coming towards them again, fighting against the beam whose light was starting to suffuse the whole chamber, although it looked significantly less solid. Seeing what was happening, Hank stepped forward.

"I care about all of you," he said, looking deeply uncomfortable. "If I had to wind up in this insane world with anybody, I'm glad it was you guys. You've followed me, even when I was wrong, and I'm proud to have been your leader. And… oh, to hell with it!"

Eric was stunned to turn his head and realize that Hank was kissing Sheila, and Sheila looked every bit as surprised.

"Huh?" Bobby said, summing up Eric's reaction, and the ring became exponentially brighter.

When he finally drew back from her, she shook her head and smiled.

"It took you long enough," she said. "If I'd known it would just take a little bitty apocalypse, I'd have gotten my own rolling years ago!"

Bobby and Terry looked extremely embarrassed, but they joined hands, saying absolutely nothing, and the ring continued to get brighter.

Eric felt awkward, but more than that he felt bad for Diana. She had loved, of course, but Kosar walked with the stars now, or whatever phrase Dungeon Master had used instead of the plain truth, which seemed to be that he was dead. They were both on the outskirts of the group looking in, surrounded by the light that the others had created, and he felt a coldness gripping his heart.

At that exact moment, the Shadow Demon seemed to grow stronger again and began to crawl towards them, gaining momentum. It was getting opaque again.

"That's right," it said, coming closer. "Feed me on your hurts, your slights, your envies, your petty jealousies. I can feel them. The Barbarian still bears the icy shard of hate in his heart for the Cavalier at the death of his beloved pet."

Bobby looked sickened.

"I… I didn't," Bobby stammered as he looked at Eric. "I know you didn't mean to, Eric, but it's still hard."

"And the Cavalier's heart echoes like this chamber," it continued. "A father drunk night after night, a mother who treats him as a burden, a younger brother who has never found cause to look up to him, friends who know him for the albatross he is, and the object of his heart unattainable because she would rather love the ghost of a man far superior to him than one close at hand. You don't even want to go home again, do you? You have no home. You have no family. You have no friends. You have never loved anyone but yourself, and no one will ever love you."

Eric shuddered violently. It wasn't merely the words, the echo of Diana's that night in the desert, though they would have been enough. Having all his most secret thoughts dragged into the open was hideously painful. He had no mask left, no shield to hide behind any more, and the Shadow Demon fed off his pain, sending out tendrils of darkness that slipped around him like serpents, enclosing him like a suffocating cocoon. He didn't even have the strength to try to fight back, and in a moment of paralyzing sadness, he found he didn't care. He'd felt something close to this before in the worst moments, when he sat in his room and stared at the ceiling at night, wondering whether if he disappeared from the face of the earth tomorrow his parents would even notice, let alone care. With the smallest, grimmest laugh that was more like a sob, he realized he actually had, and no, they hadn't even realized he'd been gone.

"Fight it, Eric!" he heard Bobby's voice say dimly through the darkness that surrounded him. "I forgive you! You didn't do anything wrong!"

The smallest bit of light reached him, just enough that he struggled to move, just a little, just to remember he was alive. But the Shadow Demon was crushing him with its full weight, gaining back its substance from his misery, and it tightened its coils around him.

Then, suddenly, there was light. Eric wasn't sure where it came from or why it was warm and soft and smelled like honeysuckle. He clasped it closer to him, desperate as a drowning man, not even sure what he was clutching, but the misery that had latched onto him lessened with each moment that he touched it. The suffocating sense of loneliness and helplessness began to recede, and he found he could think again.

It was then that he realized Diana was in his arms.

"I don't… I don't…," he said, stammering out his words.

"Hey, it's okay," she said. "Relax, Eric. I'm sorry for what I said. I just… loving someone who couldn't possibly hurt me anymore was a lot safer than loving somebody who was actually here, but I do, so just keep fighting this thing."

"Excuse me," Eric said, sounding much more calm than he actually was, "but did you just say you loved me?"

"Yeah," Diana said, and he found he could actually focus on her face again, which looked rather nervous at the moment.

"Good. Just checking," he said before finally, finally kissing her.

Sheila's ring was all but a small sun by now, not that Eric found himself particularly caring, and the Shadow Demon was a mere wisp of itself as it turned to Venger.

"He wants you back," it said, its voice cracked and small, almost pitiful if it weren't so lethal. "The One Who Has No Name will take you back into his fold. Think of it, Venger. No more looks of suspicion when your intentions are innocent, no more groveling before those you could destroy, and all the power you could possibly want. You could have your magic returned to you, multiplied a thousand fold. You could make them suffer for what they have done. That is your secret wish, is it not? You can be more than you ever were before. You know I speak the truth."

Eric looked up from Diana at that. Venger's eyes were flickering to red again, and he seemed to be sweating, something Eric hadn't seen him do even in the highest heat of the desert. He was trembling uncontrollably, and he squeezed his eyes shut as if he were in agony.

"Venger," Varla said, pleading, "please."

Something about the tone of his former victim's voice changed his expression, and he strode towards Shadow Demon, his steps level and even.

"I took that road before," he said, "and I did not like its destination. There is nothing you possess that I want, Shadow Demon. You have lost."

With a sudden movement, he grabbed Diana's javelin and thrust it into the place where the Shadow Demon's heart should have been. With a faint cry, it dissolved into nothing and was gone.


	13. Chapter 13: Meetings and Farewells

For notes, see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"You Can Do Magic" – America

"Two Hearts Beat as One" – U2

"Solsbury Hill" – Peter Gabriel

Chapter 13: Meetings and Farewells

The sun suddenly shone through the gaping hole in the Fortress of Obsidian, and the creatures that had brought them there sprang into the room in surprise, only for the sunlight to turn them into stone. Bobby lifted his club and pounded it against the floor, and the horrific statues turned into dust.

"Thank you, Barbarian," said a familiar voice behind him. "I found those works of art somewhat less than to my taste."

"Dungeon Master!" Bobby cried happily, spinning around to see the little old man hobbling towards them.

Dungeon Master looked frail and thin, but his smile was radiant.

"I have been trapped in the shadows of this fortress for many months," he said, "held prisoner by that creature of evil, but you have freed me. I cannot thank you enough."

"No problem, D.M.," Eric said, brushing off his armor. "All in a day's work, right, guys?"

"And you, my son," Dungeon Master said, his eyes filling with tears as Venger knelt down to his level, "I am so very proud of you."

Venger said nothing, but he looked far more human than ever before.

"Hey," Sheila asked, looking at the Ring of Heart on her hand. "How did Kareena know I was going to need this anyway?"

"She's my daughter, after all," Dungeon Master said, accepting the ring back from her. "It runs in the family."

"You ever wonder what the conversation must have been like around the dinner table with that group?" Eric asked Diana, and she laughed.

"I know you must want to return to your own world now," Dungeon Master said, turning to the rest of them. "I can do that for you now that Shadow Demon has been vanquished."

"Um, yeah, about that," Presto said, looking embarrassed. "We kind of have a problem."

"Ah yes, Magician," Dungeon Master said, smiling knowingly. "You and Varla would not wish to be separated forever, I know, and I have no intention of keeping you apart. The Crystal of the Two Suns is yours to keep, and when it is held to the light of your world, you need only wish to return here, and you may come."

"What about the rest of us?" Bobby asked.

"Yes, all of you," Dungeon Master said. "You may return whenever you wish. Oh, and Barbarian? You may be interested in what is in the next room."

"What?" he asked, walking through the door.

The next moment, everyone heard a loud shout, and as they charged in to see what was the matter, they stopped, completely dumb-founded.

"Uni!" he yelled joyfully as her threw his arms around her neck. "Oh, girl, I'm so happy to see you again! But how?"

"You never saw the unicorn's body. Have you forgotten, Barbarian, that unicorns can teleport once each day?" Dungeon Master said, smiling as he patted the unicorn's knee.

"Yeah, but only for short distances," Bobby said.

"Normally, yes, but the Dungeon at the Edge of Dawn increases the power of everything," Dungeon Master explained. "Uni knew that she was hurt too badly for the well to fix, so she used the brief surge of strength it gave her to teleport herself to me, and I was able to help."

"I thought you were trapped in the shadows," Eric said suspiciously.

"I was," Dungeon Master said, then gave a mysterious grin. "Well, mostly."

"You're never, ever going to completely explain anything, are you?" Eric asked.

"No, Cavalier," Dungeon Master said. "What would be the fun in that?"

After a rather lengthy goodbye between Presto and Varla, Dungeon Master opened a portal to the amusement park, which was still bathed in moonlight, and they passed through, back into their own world, where almost no time had passed at all.

"Well, that wasn't boring," Eric said, clambering up the debris from the ride and then turning to give a hand to Diana, only to find that she'd beaten him to the top.

"Yeah," Hank said as he emerged beside Sheila, with Bobby and Presto close behind. "But it's good to be home."

Eric wasn't quite sure which dimension he thought of as home anymore, but when Diana slipped her hand into his as they crept carefully through the deserted amusement park, he found he didn't much care.


	14. Chapter 14: Twelve Years Later

For notes, please see chapter 1.

Suggested music:

"Waiting for a Girl Like You" – Foreigner

"Glory of Love" – Peter Cetera

"I Melt with You" – Modern English

"Don't Stop Believin'" – Journey

Chapter 14: Twelve Years Later…

"I'm telling you, Diana, this armor shrank in the wash!" Eric yelled as he struggled to buckle his greaves.

"Right," she said, pushing a lock of hair from her eyes and tucking it gracefully behind the circlet of gold and rubies she wore on her head. "I'm sure that the three triple decker hamburgers you had at Bobby's bachelor party last night had absolutely nothing to do with it."

Eric sniffed disdainfully and checked his reflection in the mirror. He looked pretty darn good, if he said so himself.

"So what time does this thing start again?" he asked, but she just shook her head with a smile.

"You'll only run late if you know," she said. "Now move it, Cavalier!"

"I would not," Eric grumbled, walking down the staircase with her and into their sitting room. "Just because I nearly missed Sheila and Hank's wedding five years ago, which most definitely was not my fault. Nobody should be expected to factor an Orc attack into their driving time."

"Okay, fine, you get a pass on that one, but only because you're cute," she said, swatting the seat of his armor, then leaving the room.

"Damn straight," he said, looking smug as he took the time to enjoy the view from their home.

The Realm spread before them in a beautiful swirl of green and blue, and pink rosebuds (obviously Presto and Varla's work) were wafting softly through the breeze over the assembled humans and other beings who were there to see Dungeon Master lead Terry and Bobby through their vows. Eric seriously hoped the best man, Jimmy Whittaker of all people, had talked Bobby out of wearing the horned helmet during the ceremony… if anyone had even yet gotten him to believe he was really there. Eric was pretty sure Whittaker would eventually chalk the whole thing up to a post-stag party hangover.

"Hypatia and I want to know what you're thinking about," Diana said, re-entering the room while carrying their infant daughter.

"Just that I eventually found what I kept griping about for all those years," Eric said.

"And that would be?" she said, passing the baby to him.

"Home," he said, smiling at his wife before they rejoined their friends for the celebration.

Fin.


End file.
